


HighLight

by iheartkpopXD, Lithium012



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, it's very very slow, like so slow, trigger warning, vixx is in here but they're not really main, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iheartkpopXD/pseuds/iheartkpopXD, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lithium012/pseuds/Lithium012
Summary: The love story between the China Line; where neither one saves the other, but rather they work together for a stronger and promising future.This is the crappiest summary ever





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to my first ever Seventeen Fanfiction. Wow, that's exciting. Yes it is a collab with iheartkpopXD - but it'll be uploaded on my account. 
> 
> Trigger warning everywhere. There is graphic things in this fanfiction, please be aware of that. I don't know Seventeen at all, so this is a new learning curve. Forgive me if the characters aren't correct.

**One**

* * *

 

The dim lights of the motel hurt his eyes as he sits at the edge of the bed, with his head in his hands. His head throbs, and his legs feel like jelly. This is the worst part of this job, JunHui notes as he leans back on his forearms. The anticipation kills him simply because he doesn’t know who’s going to walk through that door. He doesn’t know who some of these people are. Not when they fill out an online form and his manager just tells him to go to a certain location.

He swallows when the door opens, and a richly dressed business man walks in. JunHui’s eyes drifts down to the plastic white back in his hands, then up at the man. The man smirks, a predatory grin that sends shivers down his spine. He hates these kinds of customers, he really does. There’s something not right about them. Maybe it’s their facades, or maybe it’s something else. JunHui isn’t sure.

The man wordlessly holds something out, taken from the bag. A bright red collar comes into the student’s view and a sense of dread pours over him. _So,_ he thinks, taking it. _He’s one of_ those _kinds of customers._ Those dirty, old kinky bastards. The kind he truly hates but can’t seem to separate himself from.

JunHui looks at himself in the mirror. Red looks good on him.

“You look good, kitten,” the man purrs, taking large strides over. “Get on your knees.”

Who is JunHui to deny his client? He grips the sheets, and mentally prepares himself.

But he doesn’t think he’ll be able to mentally will away the pain that comes with some of these people. The pain in his back and bottom; the kind that breaks him open, leaving him bare. It hurts when clients run their rough fingers through his locks and then yanking on them hard. Pulling his body back into impossible angles and shapes. He hates it when people try to mimic what they see on porn.

Those angles are uncomfortable, and those practices aren’t safe. The worst part is when clients insist that they don’t need a condom. Groaning, JunHui leans back on the dirty motel bed, letting those dim lights wash over him. His body’s sticky from the lube, and the cum that’s dripping out of him. It’s disgusting.

“I’m glad you’re so obedient,” the man says, zipping up his pants. He reaches into his pockets and flicks some money out. “Buy yourself something pretty.” With that, the man leaves. JunHui takes a moment to catch his breath, shakily getting up and gripping that small wad of bills. 600,000 Won, what a cheap bastard.

He takes his time pulling on his clothes; his next client isn’t scheduled till a little later. JunHui sighs, leaning back against his headboard. The sounds of sex echoes through the thin walls and all he could do is sit. He barely has the energy to bang on the walls. Exhaustion weighs heavily on him, and sleep is a welcoming him with open arms.

However, the sound of his phone buzzing pulls him out. His next client has a bit of a crossdressing kink. With a heavy sigh, he exits the room; letting the smell of stale cigarettes and mildew seep inside.

~***~

The dust on his camera lens bothers him; it’s like mockery on his imperfections. One that MingHao simply couldn’t wipe away. He looks at himself in the full-length mirror, eyeing his features. From the curve of his jaw to the look of his eyes, it’s a mix match of all that’s good in the world thrown onto him. Like he’s a child of God.  

He scoffs at that. What a fucking joke.

His eyes peer over his assignment again; frowning at the fact that he _has_ to include a picture of himself. It’s only the second month of school and already they’re entering the philosophical shit. Frowning, he turns back to his mirror, holding his camera up. If he covers his face maybe they won’t be able to see the dark circles under his eyes. Maybe if he covers his face they won’t see how his nose isn’t quite in the middle.

MingHao looks down at his hands, staring at the deformities. His fingers aren’t straight, they’re rather crooked. As if they were broken a long time ago but never healed properly. That might be why they hurt whenever the weather changes too rapidly.

Blinking those memories away, he lifts his camera, looks through the viewfinder and snaps his first picture. The lighting is off, and it makes him look dead, but he’ll take it. The professor did say to make it as how he saw himself. MingHao has never saw himself as a child of light, only a child of darkness and misery. That’s what he has become.

His mouth twists up into a demented smile. Something he hasn’t done in years. Smiling is such a foreign feeling for him. As is happiness and love. They’re strange feelings he isn’t sure he could handle. Not in the state of mind he’s always in.

Lowering his camera, MingHao meticulously puts away his equipment. Taking off the portrait lens, then wiping away the dust particles that gather. He carefully places everything inside of his camera bag, before taking the mirror away. He looks at it again, tilting his head slightly. He needs a haircut, he decides.

He tugs at the long strands of black hair, hearing the voices of his parents in the foreground. One of them yelling at him for always having long, dirty hair. The other threatening him with a pair of kitchen scissors. MingHao shuts his eyes in an effort to block them out. The metallic and robotic feeling creeps in ever so slowly.

If it does, it’s the third attack this month.

Sighing, he forces himself away from the mirror and draping a large white sheet over. The less he has to look at himself, the better.

~***~

On Monday, JunHui pulls out his cellphone, three messages from his co-worker Yuri lies unread. He rubs his eyes a bit, blinking away sleep deprivation before opening it up.

_Are u on campus?_

_Im on the south side – humanities building_

_With Ji Ah, my classmate_

He groans, wondering what horrific story she’s brewing up now. Slowly, he makes his way across the university campus, dodging the over zealous students. Some of them peer up at him curiously but he doesn’t pay them any mind. He couldn’t, not when he’s on a mission. By the time he makes it over there, there’s barely any students.

JunHui keeps an eye out for a tuff of pink hair as he scours the halls. Eventually, in front of his art’s classroom, he finds them. Awkwardly, he sits down, making sure not to bump into his injury from last night.

“Wait, does that mean you and Jun sleep together sometimes?” Ji Ah asked, curious as a cat with her big eyes. When she noticed mentioned person had just joined their table, she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth and shrunk back into her seat. “Sorry!”

JunHui looks at them both, with the deadest of eyes. “What the hell were you telling her?”

“Nothing bad,” Yuri responds, waving it off. “Just, you know, things about strap-ons and such.” Suddenly, the urge to murder his co-worker becomes incredibly real. He simply wants to reach over and suffocate her. Then promptly knock Ji Ah out in order for her to forget that. But he doesn’t, forcing a strained and pained smile on his face.

“We’re not working though,” he mutters.

“So, you _are_ a… you know,” Ji Ah says. “Is it bad?”

Yuri scowls at her, shaking her head. “Don’t make it seem like being a sex worker is a bad thing. I like it.” There's a million different responds on the tip of his tongue, but nothing gets spoken out. He plasters on another smile and listens to what they have to say.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that… I just don’t know a lot about it other than the awful stories,” she admits, “I don’t have anything against it, I’m just surprised is all. As long as you two are happy with it, then that’s all that matters, right?” Yuri nods, but JunHui thinks back to the bruises on the back of his legs. Suddenly, the glamour of being a sex worker wears off.

He swallows, unsure of what to say. Thank God for Yuri and her endless amounts of questions. She asks Ji Ah stuff about herself, digging deep into her, carving her out like a turkey. Ji Ah is so willing to give out information that might cost her a reputation. JunHui is envious of that kind of luxury. He learns that Ji Ah works at a therapist office in downtown as part of an internship this fall semester.

“I only work evenings from Monday to Thursday, and a full shift on the weekends,” she explains. “It pays really well, plus Taekwoon is really nice.” Yuri nods as if understanding everything. Soon she runs out of questions, letting silence fall over them. It feels awkward.

“So, when’s your next class?” Yuri asks.

“At 3,” JunHui says, his smile widening. He likes the thought of having afternoon classes. But, he prefers ones that end a little bit earlier. Oh well, it’s Monday and Mondays are his long days.

“Cool, come eat lunch with us.”

“My boyfriend is bringing our friend,” Ji Ah pipes up. “He’s a bit quiet around new people, but don’t worry you’ll like him.” Nibbling on his lower lip, JunHui agrees, unsure of what’s going to happen. But that never stopped him from going off into something he didn’t know. With that, the trio gather their things, and head off towards a local café close by.   

~***~

“I don’t feel like it,” he says while going through the photos from his camera’s SD card via his laptop. “You can go by yourself.” He runs his hand through his long jet-black locks before adjusting his fake metal rimmed glasses.

“She invited the both of us, Hao,” Mingyu replies with a pout. He sits there fiddling with his pen, making a ton of clicking noises that’s slowly driving MingHao insane. “It’s just for lunch, that’s all. It’ll be short.”

“Well, I’m declining the invite. Stop bothering me, I’m working.” MingHao briefly looks up with a warning look before returning to his laptop.

“You need a break, so we’re going.” His laptop suddenly slams shut, almost smashing his fingers.

“Yah!” His taller friend only gives a sorry chuckle before taking his laptop and rushing off with it. It gives him no choice but to go after Mingyu. MingHao curses under his breath, gathers up his stuff and follows the giant. He should’ve known this would happen. _Doesn’t he know what the word_ No _means?_

This doesn’t happen often, but he never liked being pushed into something like meeting new people. He’s not totally against the idea, he’s just not in need for many friends. He’s fine with what he has. Which happens to be Ji Ah and Mingyu. Like they say, three’s a crowd.

It doesn’t take long for him to catch up to Mingyu and already they’re approaching the table where his best friend and Mingyu’s girlfriend Ji Ah is talking to two unfamiliar faces. There sits a girl and a guy; they’re both attractive and seems friendly from the way they talk to his friend.

But that doesn’t mean MingHao is excited about sitting down and joining them. Mingyu greets Ji Ah with a quick hug and a peck to her lips before he turns his attention to the other two strangers. He greets them with no problems, being the friendly giant that he is, and then it’s MingHao’s turn.

“Hello,” he simply says. Ji Ah, takes over, introducing him on his behalf; telling them his name and his major. He learns their names as Yuri and JunHui. By then Mingyu really storms up a conversation with them. Ji Ah chimes in every so often and MingHao stays quiet the entire time. He’s listening but doesn’t pay it much attention. He’s just waiting for it to all be done with, so he can go back to looking through his photos. He has a project he needs to work on and it’s due by the end of the week.

If there’s one thing MingHao likes, it’s to stay on top of his assignments. Or rather, however on top of it he could be. With friends who likes going out and dragging him along, it’s a miracle his grades are as high as they are now.

Usually he goes unnoticed when meeting his best friend and her boyfriend’s new friends, but there’s a first time for everything he supposes. He catches JunHui looking at him and he freezes. This could only mean one thing: He _has_ to engage in conversation now. _What do I even say?_

“I like your glasses.” It’s JunHui who makes the first comment.

“Thanks.” MingHao quietly says while nodding. Now he has to to compliment him back, right? That’s how the rules of making quiet conversation goes, “I like your…” He scans the other looking for something to plug into his sentence. “I like your shirt.” _Smooth MingHao, smooth._

“Thank you!” JunHui seems happy with the compliment at least so, MingHao can relax a little. He likes JunHui’s smile; it’s the kind of smile he wishes he has. One that’s friendly, but also carefree. “So, you’re a photography major? That’s cool.”

“Uh, yes.” MingHao nods, trying to think fast about what to say back. But he’s drawing a blank.

Luckily JunHui says something to keep the conversation going. “What kind of photos do you like to take?” he asks, with his full attention is on MingHao now. MingHao glances to JunHui’s friend Yuri, who gives him a wink. Maybe she’s implying that she’d keep Ji Ah and Mingyu busy while he talks with JunHui. That makes him glance to Ji Ah beside him, who only gave a kind smile and gestured for him to keep talking with JunHui.

So, they’re in on it.

“I like nature,” he finally answers. “Sometimes I’ll take photos for fashion. Actually, just a mix of things that I find interesting or beautiful.” His cheeks feel red when he pushes the last portion of the sentence out.

“I see.” JunHui has a sweet smile on as he listens. His messy locks of light brown hair nearly cover his left eye until he makes a swift movement to get it out of the way. As if he didn't have a lot of time to style it before coming to campus earlier. MingHao is weirded out by the other, especially when JunHui is looking at him like how Mingyu looks at Ji Ah during their dates or at any time. He’s not used to others looking at him that way and he’s not entirely sure why JunHui is doing it. “What got you into photography?”

He thinks about it. He’s not sure why he got into it to be honest. It just, sort of happened when he and Ji Ah would travel and take photos to document their memories together. Perhaps it started when he noticed he lacked photos of his childhood. There was nothing to look back on and it was rather disappointing. Maybe not too disappointing though, since he doesn’t have that many good memories to look back on.

He’s thinking about it now, the memories slowly turning his mood sour. It always happens whenever he thinks of his past back in China. They’re not pleasant memories and his chest starts to tighten with those negative emotions. He doesn’t want to remember.

“MingHao?” JunHui’s voice snaps him out of it. “Are you okay?”

“I need to go.” He stands up quickly and starts walking off while clutching his chest. He doesn’t want to be obvious, but it hurts. He just needs to get away, to calm down. MingHao darts towards the path to his apartment, once he’s there he’s pressing his head into his pillow and screaming. The thoughts and the voices of his parents echoes loudly in the back of his mind.

_You aren’t good enough._

_Failure._

_What a waste of air._

It takes him an hour of breathing exercises to calm down. But his parent’s voices are still lingering in the back of his head, clutching him like a ghost.

~***~

“I’m sorry!” Ji Ah is the first to apologize after they watched MingHao leave. “I’m not sure what happened but…”

“I just asked what got him into photography, that’s all,” JunHui points out with a worried expression. “Did I trigger some bad memories or something?” With those simple sentences, Ji Ah understands it all now.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine!” she quickly says and gets up just as fast as MingHao did. “I’ll go check on him. Sorry to cut things short. I’ll see you around!” With that she’s off after grabbing his laptop he left behind next to Mingyu, then she’s sprinting in the same direction as MingHao.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Yuri asked when she noticed Mingyu’s dejected expression.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Neither Yuri or JunHui is convinced, not when Mingyu looks like a sad puppy who got left out in the rain. It’s obvious he's  concerned about something, about someone. “It’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry.” JunHui can’t help but apologize for the entire situation. The thoughts of MingHao running off is fresh in his mind. He can still see the look of panic and pain in the latter’s eyes the moment he asked that question. Maybe he shouldn’t speak. As JunHui thinks about the questions, they didn’t seem that personal. Not to him at least, but it’s clear he triggered something in the other.

“It’s not your fault,” Mingyu says, with a small smile on his face. A hand reaches out to pat JunHui on the back, and he tries hard not to flinch. “MingHao is just… a little sensitive sometimes...” he begins to say but catches himself. “It’s not my place to tell, sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Yuri assures him. “We’ll be careful next time – that is – if there’s even a next time anyways.”

“I’m sure there will be, it’ll just take time, that’s all.” Mingyu gives a hopeful smile and it eases some of the tension at the table. “I’ll get going too. See you around?”

“Sure.” Yuri nods and nudges JunHui to respond as well.

“Of course,” he replies and watches Mingyu get up from his seat. They exchange quick goodbyes and he’s off, leaving JunHui and Yuri at the table alone.

“That went very well,” she snickers once Mingyu is out of range. “How about you? Are you okay?” She knows JunHui doesn’t like to upset other people. JunHui looks at her, still deep in thought. His mind continues to playback the entire scene, like a broken record. It’s disturbing to see someone look at him like that.

He doesn’t like it and he can’t seem to pinpoint why. Maybe it’s the thought of him being solely responsible for causing that look of terror on the latter. Or maybe the look on MingHao’s face reminds him too much of himself. JunHui swallows, plastering on a smile for Yuri.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I need to get to class. I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Uh, sure.” He waves, grabbing his backpack and darting off. His heart beats wildly as he approaches his classroom. _JunHui,_ he says to himself, running his fingers through his hair. _You’re an idiot._ He takes a shaky breath and steadies himself. Or rather he steadies himself as much as he possibly could before stepping into class.

No one wants to see the tears that run down his face; so, he buries them. He learned a long time ago, tears made you prettier. So, JunHui doesn’t know how to cry anymore. All he can do is smile to cover up everything that’s utterly broken inside.  

~***~

MingHao presses his back against the wall with his hands over his ears; that’s how his Ji Ah finds him three days later. Shaking and shivering while moaning “make it stop” to nothing. She approaches him with caution, worried about causing another attack. MingHao couldn’t see anything clearly, it’s like he’s being buried alive. His chest tightens as another wave of insults crashes down on him.

_Failure. Stupid. Why do you even exist?_

_I should’ve aborted you when I had the chance._

That last insult had always hit him hard, like a punch in his gut. The kind that knocks all the air out of him and leaves him lying on the floor, curled up in a ball. His hands shake as he pulls away from the wall and leans towards Ji Ah’s touch. Her hand’s soft against his face, a source of comfort for him; like a childhood blanket.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks, her voice soft as a rose petal.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

He looks at her, incredulous. “I made myself look like an idiot…” He can still see JunHui’s face when he ran off. The look of terror (or maybe it’s concern, MingHao doesn’t know) on his face burns into his mind. But that’s still better than the looks of disgust his parents had given him.

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” Ji Ah says. “They were concerned about you.”

MingHao doesn’t believe that. He generally doesn’t believe in a lot of things.

“How long…?” he asks. “How long was I out for?”

Ji Ah looks at everywhere but at him, before giving into his pleads. “Three days.” He takes a sharp breath in, eyes closing in disbelief. Three days. He had an episode for three days. This one is officially marked as one of his worst ones yet. Anything spanning more than 7 hours is considered god awful.

It isn’t his fault, at least that’s what the psychiatrist on the school grounds said to him. It’s something he simply cannot control. But it feels like his brain is planning a conspiracy against him. Especially when he checks out of his body like that. The strange thing is that he’s still there, physically at the very least. Mentally, on the hand, is an entirely different story.

“I should… I should—” MingHao starts to say as he tries to stand up. His legs fail him, and he stumbles with as much grace as a newborn giraffe. Ji Ah holds onto his biceps, steadying him. His eyes blur as he tries to maintain his cold composure.

“You need sleep,” Ji Ah says, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. “MingHao, anything else can wait.”

“No… my assignment. I can’t…”

“The professor understands.” MingHao pauses, thinking about the form he had (rather Mingyu forced him to) fill out. The one that tells Dr. Cha to allow him to delay his assignments. _Sometimes,_ he had told the psychiatrist. _I just have an episode where I’m not mentally here. I’m physically here… but… mentally? No. Not at all._

He remembers the strange looks given to him by his teachers whenever he hands in his specialized letter. The looks of ‘He looks perfectly fine’ flashes through their faces briefly before accepting the letter.

“But, I’m just… so behind,” he argues back, feeling distress building up in his sternum. He has to do something. He just… _has_ to, if he doesn’t then he can hear his parents’ voices lingering over him. Tears well up in his eyes as he holds back the frustration. “I’m going to fail if I don’t finish this.” And if he fails, it’s going to be his own damn fault for not trying hard enough.

MingHao shakes off Ji Ah, and heads towards his desk. His legs feel numb, the tiny ants shooting upwards. He’s convinced that he’s going to die, but he continues to press forward. If he doesn’t, then his assignment won’t be finished and then… _He’ll be locked in a closet for days. With his throat dry from screaming and the floor wet. His cheeks would be red when he comes out, his eyes sensitive to the light and his parents standing over him; hands on their hopes and asking him ‘Have you learned your lesson?’_

He forces those memories out of his mind and focuses on his assignment. So, he can finish on time and prepare for the next thing that he knows he’s going to fail at.

Ji Ah stands there, watching MingHao force himself to get working on his assignments. She doesn’t want him to, she wants him to sleep, but it’s clear he won’t listen. She wants to walk over and make him rest, but she’s afraid he’d lash out at her in protest and would never forgive himself for doing that to her. It was definitely a conflicting feeling for her. She’s thinking of contacting Mingyu to come help, maybe he could get their friend to rest, but she doesn’t want them fighting either. Sometimes she feels helpless when it comes to helping her friend. Her kind heart stops her from giving tough love and then MingHao continues to suffer on his own. At times like these, she doesn’t feel like she’s strong enough to help him and it honestly breaks her heart, to watch this happen, to let it happen in a sense because she can’t really do anything about it without serious consequences.

For now, she has to trust that MingHao will be okay after working on his assignments for a little while. Maybe it will get his mind off of those dark thoughts, maybe it will help him calm down because he’s being productive. That starts to make her feel better now that she thinks of it this way. “I’ll go now, I have work.” She calls over to him. “Good luck, MingHao.”

He glances over his shoulder to see her give him a warm smile and a small wave. It’s enough to get him smiling too. “Thank you. Good luck on work, too” He calls back and gives a wave back before turning back around and looks down at his desk with his assignments spread out. _I got this._ He thinks to himself. _I can do this._


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: There is graphic description of rape, if you are uncomfortable with that, please skip that scene. Thank you for your cooperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING HERE: There is graphic description of rape. If you are uncomfortable with that, please skip that scene. I can't reiterate it enough.

# Two

* * *

By the end of the week, MingHao is ready to crash. His body feels sore, like he had run a three-mile long marathon without any preparation. His mind is muddled, unable to think clearly or see straight. It’s like he’s dying in his own thoughts. As he positions himself to get the perfect shot for another photography class, his legs nearly give out. His hand trembles and in defeat, he forces himself to stop.

He’s not sure why his body’s doing this.

Mingyu finds him on a park bench, staring at his camera forlorn. “Hey,” he says, softly. “We missed you at lunch today. Where were you?”

“I was busy,” MingHao says. “I’m so behind on my assignments. If I don’t do well, I… I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Aren’t you on top of all your classes?”

“That isn’t the point.” MingHao stands up, stumbling a bit. His head feeling dizzy and his vision blurring slightly. He feels Mingyu’s strong and sturdy form on his, gripping his arms to steady him. “Let me go.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Mingyu asks.

“I don’t have time for eating!”

“ _Everyone_ has time for eating. Goddammit Hao.” Unable to protest, MingHao allows himself to be dragged by his friend, stumbling every so often. Moments later, he’s seated at the table with a small sandwich in front of him and a glower from his friend and JunHui – who happened to be the only one Mingyu knows who has one class on Fridays. MingHao’s stubborn nature wills him not to eat, but his weaken body protests.

He gives into his body simply because it’s louder, not because of Mingyu’s glare or JunHui’s concern.

“Are you feeling better?” JunHui asks, trying to break the silence. “Ji Ah said you weren’t feeling very well.”

MingHao nods.

“Oh, that’s good.” Then it’s silent again. MingHao chews his sandwich slowly, willing himself not to eat so much at once. He decides that once he’s done, he’s going straight back to work. Work an extra hour to make up for lost time. Like his mother used to always say, assignments aren’t going to finish themselves.

“JunHui,” Mingyu says, startling the two. “Can you look after my friend here? I need to get to class.”

“Oh, sure. Bye Mingyu, have a good afternoon!” JunHui says with a bright ass smile, while waving. Waving. MingHao nearly snorts at that. Maybe he’s simply just a bitter person, or maybe he’s just unfriendly, but he doesn’t see it necessary to do more than give a simple head nod. It feels like a waste of energy.

Once Mingyu leaves, JunHui turns his attention back on the grouchy student. A strained smile decorating his lips. It’s as if, for once, he doesn’t have anything to say. His eyebrows scrunch up, trying to think of a question. MingHao takes mental notes on him. The way he sticks his tongue out as he’s trying to think; the way he looks so crossed eyed right now. It’s slightly adorable.

(He’ll go back and eat his words later when he decides that JunHui is completely adorable)

“How old are you?” JunHui finally asks.

“20. You?”

“22.” MingHao looks at him, his eyebrow raises. No way in hell this guy looks 22. He doesn’t look older than 19. MingHao calls bullshit on that. “I know, I look young,” JunHui says, grinning. “I take it as a compliment.”

“You,” MingHao says, pointing the last half of the sandwich at him. “Should not lie to people.”

“I’m serious!” He likes the sound of JunHui’s laugh. It’s carefree, even if the laughter is directed at him. “I’m actually 22!”

“Does it mean… you’ll graduate this year?”

JunHui shakes his head, smiling still. But something about this smile seems off, but MingHao couldn’t put his finger on it. “I have a couple more years. I took a gap year.” The concept of a gap year is something MingHao has never heard of before. It’s foreign, much like JunHui’s Korean.

“Where did you go for a year?” MingHao asks, leaning close. He listens to JunHui rattle off about traveling around, going to Japan and Thailand for a bit. With him claiming that it’s completely different from where he’s from. “Where are you from?”

“China,” JunHui says, tapping his finger on the table. “But, I don’t remember what region.”  It’s a small detail MingHao finds utterly strange but he knows better than to push the topic.

“I’m from China too.” JunHui flashes him a big smile, rambling on some more. MingHao leans his head on his hand, listening to the older chatter, like there’s an endless number of stories he could give. He finds it interesting. It’s interesting on how someone could talk so much and yet, feel so light.

He certainly didn’t feel light when he let everything loose on the psychiatrist.

“Ah,” JunHui says, when his cell phone vibrates. “I’m sorry. I have to get going… Can I have your number?”

MingHao blinks, looking up from his daze. “What? Why?”

“So, I can talk to you, silly.” JunHui’s hand reaches down and give MingHao’s dark hair a quick ruffle. “I want to get to know you.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask so many questions, just give me your damn number.” Begrudgingly, MingHao hands over his phone and JunHui inputs it in, sending himself a text. “Okay,” he says, cheerfully. “I’ll see you around.” MingHao watches him leave, seeing a small bounce in his step and wondering how someone could be so happy and cheerful all the time.

Plus, it helps that JunHui has a cute back side.

Quietly, he smiles to himself, a genuine one, and continues to eat. Maybe, tonight, he’ll take the night off. God knows that he deserves it.

~***~

JunHui sits on the edge of the motel bed with nothing on except a pair of handcuffs. His eyes wander over to his client, a man in early 30s, sitting on the other bed. A small smile dances on the man’s face and it’s another kind that sends shivers down JunHui’s spine. Why is he always paired up with the creepy old men? Why can’t he have some of the customers Yuri has?

“Are you ready?” the man asks, reaching over and stroking his cheek. JunHui’s tongue sneaks out, wetting his lower lip. He nods, giving his best “bedroom eyes”. The man smirks again, this time, one more sinister. “Look into the camera for me.”

“Wait…” JunHui says, looking around. “What camera?”

Without warning, the man forces his face into the rough pillows. His back and ass left vulnerable to the elements. The man’s hand holds onto JunHui’s neck, suffocating him. He lets out a choked scream, squirming to break free. The man doesn’t ease up and he could feel himself go lightheaded, dark spots clouding his vision. His trapped hands struggle to break free as the man preps him.

Well, preps him as kindly and as sweetly as one could. Then, he lets his neck go, letting air come back in. JunHui gasps, still struggling against his restraints. His bottom hurts from the rough fingers that force their way inside. Tears wells up in his eyes and before he could say anything, he’s flipped forward and onto his knees.

The man sticks his crotch in JunHui’s face, his cock touching his lower lips. “Suck, whore.” JunHui doesn’t have a choice. This is his job. Slowly, he opens his mouth only to have the man push in roughly. He chokes, struggling to breathe properly. He tries to relax his throat, prevent the man from going in deeper – but this client is persistent.

He gags JunHui. Tears spill over his pretty face, dripping down his chin and onto the bed below him. The man above him gives a low, disgusting moan as he continues to thrust, hold and pull back. JunHui feels himself fading in and out of consciousness, as if he isn’t sure if this is real or if it’s just a fevered dream.

Just before the man could cum, he pulls out. A thin strand of saliva connecting the two and JunHui coughs and sputters. The air he tries to take in feels like glass ripping open his lungs. He wonders if he’s bleeding from the inside out.

Out of the corner of his eye, by the mirror, he finally sees the camera. Flashing red and recording everything.

“You…” JunHui says, voice raspy. “You can’t. No filming.” The man ignores him, rearranging the student. He trashes around a bit, trying to escape, but the man knows how to hold him down. Forcing him to submit. A sharp pain echoes loudly through the room and JunHui stops thrashing around. His cheek burns from the punch he received.

“Stay still,” the man growls. “And I can do what I want.”

“No…! No filming! I’ll give you the money back. The session is over!” JunHui tugs at his handcuffs, still trying to break free. But the man holds him down, pressing his chest against the mattress, where his head lolls off the edge just slightly.

“You have so much potential,” the man whispers, pressing himself against JunHui’s back. “God, you’re such a beautiful thing.” His harden cock presses against JunHui’s entrance, slick with his own spit. “Try not to scream too much.” Then, he pushes in.

To say this experience is amazing, or sexual or whatever porn stars and porn junkies like to ramble on about is far from the truth. It fucking hurts and he couldn’t help but let out a scream of agony, squirming around under the man’s hold. JunHui tries to look for something to grip on, pressing his face into the side of the mattress.

It feels like he’s being torn apart and thrown into a bucket full of salt. He feels the man attempt to hit his prostate, changing up his angle every so often. JunHui just hopes his body isn’t betraying him. But, it does when the man finally finds it and a strangled sound comes out of his own lips. He bets it gives the man a sense of sadistic pleasure.

Without any warning, he feels himself lift up by the roots of his hair. The man, sadistic as JunHui believes him to be, forces him to look at the mirror, at the camera. He stares at himself, noticing tear streaks running down his face, his hair damp against his forehead and his mouth opened, struggling to establish a strong breathing pattern. The worst thing of all has to be his dick, hard and arched upwards on his stomach.

His eyes widen, as he hears his client chuckle beside him; the pace never slowing down. “I knew you liked it.” JunHui shakes his head, which rests on the client’s shoulder. His hands try again to escape the metal confinement, to no avail. In what feels like eternity, something sticky finally enters his body, dripping down his thighs.

JunHui shudders, squirming out of the man’s grasp. He thinks it’s over, that’s what these customers like to do. Fuck him then ditch him. Often times, they don’t leave him hard. They never get him to that state. And if they did, he has ways to calm it down. But not this man, no. This man has other ideas, given his hand reaching around and grabbing his painfully hard dick, stroking it at a pace where it hurts.

He gives out a strangled cry, another wave of tears flowing out of him and another shot of pain shooting straight through his body. He shakes, bending over in an attempt to ease the sharp, soul ripping pain. In a twist of events, one he should have seen coming, the man forces him upright again. His brain goes into overdrive, unsure what to do. His body breaks apart. Droplets of semen shoot out, dripping onto his stomach and the man’s hand.

_He’s done,_ JunHui thinks to himself. _He has to be done._ But, alas, he isn’t. The man manages to rip out another scream from the young student, as well as another orgasm that ripples through in painful waves. Shaking and twitching, JunHui falls onto the mattress, utterly exhausted. He sniffles and whimpers, unable to do anything more.

Finally, he’s freed from his handcuffs and the man throws a fat wad of bills on the bed. He takes the camera and smiles. “I might just hire you for my company. You have the prettiest voice.” With that he leaves JunHui on the bed, utterly disgusted with himself. It takes a while, but he pulls himself up, grabs one of the pillows and screams his throat raw.

~***~

It’s late at night when MingHao decides to leave his apartment for a quick late night walk. With his camera in his hands, he strolls down towards the inner city where drug lords and prostitutes hang around. He holds his camera close, with the goal to reach the Han River. They say it’s beautiful at night and he wants to see for himself. Every so often, he stops and lifts his camera up, hoping to get just that perfect shot. But, he ends up with nothing in the end.

On the road that takes him to the river, a particular view catches his eyes. It’s a wave of stars, littering itself down like a waterfall. Quickly, he lifts his camera up, hoping to catch it before he forgets. He snaps the picture, smiling quietly to himself. MingHao looks through his viewfinder, snapping a picture of the quiet down shops.

Seoul is truly beautiful this late at night. He lowers it, squinting in the distance. JunHui (or an imposter that looks exactly like him) stands under one of the streetlights, arms wrapped around his torso. His head’s down like he doesn’t want to be seen. MingHao holds his camera close, looking over and wondering what he should do.

He wonders if he should walk over, ask him if he’s okay. But he doesn’t want to bother him. MingHao stands in the streets a little more, before lifting up his camera and snapping a picture. Hopefully the flash will draw JunHui’s attention. Which is does. Slowly, he lifts his head, turning around and flashing MingHao a bright smile.

MingHao lifts his hand, nodding. “Hello.”

“What are you doing out so late?” he asks.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” JunHui blinks, looking past him. He, then, breaks out into a joyous laughter. But there’s something off about his laugh. It’s soulless.

“Oh, I’m on my way home,” he says, smiling till his cheeks crack. “From my job.” Under the light, MingHao can see something blotchy and red under his shirt collar. Like he’s been attacked. He wonders if he should say something, but before he could, JunHui is already pushing past him. Walking with a slight limp.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” MingHao asks, surprising himself. He nearly covers his mouth in embarrassment. JunHui pauses, looking thoughtfully with his finger on his chin.

“Do you want to see me?”

MingHao nods, feeling some kind of comfort with the older. His cheeks flush slightly as he thinks about that. “Then I’ll come see you,” JunHui says. “Have a good night.” With that he waves, walking off. MingHao stands there, watching him leave, unable to say anything. It’s like his mouth is filled with cotton or peanut butter.

He clutches his camera close, gripping it harshly. His eyes narrow down at the floor and he wonders if JunHui and him are the exact same. Hastily, he shakes his head, deciding that it’s enough for today. He can feel another attack come on, and his mind is already trying to separate from his body. With that in mind, he hurries back apartment. His chest tightening till he can’t breathe anymore.

Till he’s barely alive anymore.

~***~

The psychiatrist called it Depersonalization, the thing he does when ever his mind disappears. The feeling of swimming in clear water whenever he wants it to be murky. MingHao understands it as the thing that’s protecting him whenever he feels like there’s too much. Like the nightmares are too much. Like the memories are too much. Like life is too much.

His mind would simply drift away, leaving all happy thoughts in its wake. Maybe ones of Ji Ah and Mingyu making him feel like an idiot. Or maybe ones of other things, like that kitten he found on the side of the road and cared for without his parents’ knowledge. But that soon turns dark when he remembers the lifeless body of the kitten in his father’s hands.

_“Animals are a waste of time,”_ he said. _“Don’t care for such stupid things. Here’s a life lesson on death, free of charge.”_

After that, MingHao never liked animals.

He leans against the cool tiles of his bathroom, closing his eyes as he lets the cold water wash over him. Cold water keeps him here, it keeps him in the moment. At least that’s what he likes to think. But it’s not practical. Outside, he hears his apartment door open and Ji Ah’s voice ringing through. He can’t even bring himself to get out of the shower.

“MingHao!” The bathroom door opens, and he sees Ji Ah’s figure standing behind the glass. “You’ll catch your death in here!” She pulls the glass aside, reaching in and turning off the water. He looks up, bleary. He feels her hands pulling him up, towelling him off. He can barely hear her muttering.

All he can think about is the dead kitten in his father’s hands. The dead kitten reminds him of JunHui. The soulless eyes that bore itself into someone’s soul. MingHao wonders if he looks the same. He sometimes looks at himself in the mirror, cringing at the dark circles under his eyes.

_But dark circles mean that I’m working hard._

Ji Ah leads him to bed, tucking him in like a mother would. He stares up at the ceiling, asking himself when he put clothes on. His body feels dead; unmoving. Maybe he’s dead and this is purgatory.

“MingHao,” Ji Ah says, touching his face. “I’m worried about you. Have you been taking your medications?”

“Yes,” he says. The full bottle of prescribed medications that’s in his bathroom cabinet and the 7 missed therapy sessions says otherwise. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” He jumps at her sudden outburst; her face turning blotchy. “You’re killing yourself! I’m watching you not eat or sleep properly for how many years now?” He winces thinking back to all those times he went days without eating.

But this is all that he knows. He’s been conditioned to behave like this. His parents would lock him in a tiny closet for days; no food, and barely any water. Those were generally good days for him.

The bad days were ones that no one wanted to hear, and he couldn’t even bring himself to say. Not even to Ji Ah.

“I’ll eat,” he mutters, sitting up. “Just… just please don’t yell at me.” Her features and voice soften.

“I’m sorry Hao,” Ji Ah says, rubbing his back. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know.”

“Can you forgive me?”

He looks at her. “No. I can’t,” MingHao replies, dryly; earning him a scowl. He flashes a small smile, patting her on her head. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, only if you begin taking care of yourself,” Ji Ah says, smiling. MingHao nods, thinking about how many days he could go without eating and sleeping – all without Ji Ah or Mingyu knowing. He determines that he can go about three days without eating and sleeping without his friends knowing. Then, he decides that’s what he’s going to do.

Ji Ah cooks up some instant noodles that MingHao has laying around. He almost forgets what noodles smelt like. He hasn’t had some in forever. His stomach rumbles, begging to be fed. He tries to silence it, but Ji Ah’s sharp ears pick up on his body’s betrayal. She makes sure he finishes the entire bowl.

“Do you feel better?”

“As well as I could be.”

Ji Ah leans over, patting MingHao on the head. “You’ll be okay.” He smiles, out of politeness not because he believes it. If he did, then his parents’ voices would have left the back of his head a long time ago.

~***~

JunHui doesn’t know what to do, as he sits in his room, with his head pressed against his knees. His mind is spinning around at an all time high – not the good kind; but the bad kind where he feels nothing but paranoia. Like that man is going to find out where he lives and he’ll come back like a fiery vengeance.

He hears people on the news asking why rape victims never go to the police; why they never report it. And honestly, he doesn’t know what to say about that. He doesn’t know the person at all, and on top of that, he’s a sex worker.

It’s kinda hard to believe someone who uses sex as a tool for money.

JunHui groans, wanting to forget it all and move on with his normal life. He wants to move back into normality, the kind that doesn’t involve him feeling like a victim. His arms go numb and the cold air washing into his apartment doesn’t help.

The heating must be out again.

Groaning, he pulls his covers over and curl up into a small ball. He hugs his pillow close and thinks about the last time he felt like a whole human being. There’s nothing in his mind. No simple memory.

All he has are memories of men walking into his bedroom, late at night and taking small pieces of him. Sucking him dry till he’s nothing but a hollow shell. This should have been something he’s used to by now.

But, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of worthlessness that sits inside of his gut.

The old ass heater he has begins to shutter, sputtering for some kind of life. Finally, it begins to work; warming his lower body. In a sigh, he closes his eyes.

In his mind, he sees MingHao; not the man who violated him. He sees MingHao standing at the end of the street; his eyes lingering on the bruise on his neck. In the shape of someone’s hand. He can feel himself being stripped down by the lingering eyes of the other. Suddenly, the very fear of being vulnerable fills his mind. He’s nothing in front of someone. His chest tightens, threatening to break his ribs apart.

Shatter them in shards of bone, littering the floor.

_I’m going to die._

So, JunHui has decide to do what he does best. Smile through it all, bear the pain like the good boy he always has been.

~***~

He gets an email on Sunday evening telling him to come into his manager’s office. JunHui swallows, thickly; feelings of dread slipping down his back. He can already see and hear the disappointment in her voice. Hyolyn isn’t someone he could simply mess with and this is the third time this month he’s been called into her office. All of which is for the same thing: He’s being too reluctant with clients. He has too much standards and no one really want to play by his rules.

As someone would say, JunHui is picky at what he wants. He should’ve known that people who go after him aren’t willing to play. He should’ve known that people want to see tears streaming down his pretty face and see him beg. But, someone like him believes that he couldn’t hurt to dream about something good for once in his life.

He timidly walks into the lush office, smelling her perfume already. It’s strong, flowery and motherly. He had always seen her as his mother. Inside, he sees Yuri, Hyolyn’s favourite, perched on the luscious red sofa. She invites him to sit and he is no position to disobey. JunHui is one complaint away from being tossed out. Maybe this is the time he should say something.

“JunHui,” Yuri mutters, reaching over and squeezing his hand. He squeezes back, swallowing down the boulder in his throat. Hyolyn likes to wait, have her workers shaking in their seats, nearly reduced to tears before she speaks. Her long fingernails tap against the mahogany desk, her sharp eyes looking at the two of them. He doesn’t understand why she called in Yuri.

This is supposedly a private matter.

“JunHui,” she says, her voice husky and smoky. It’s oddly comforting even though it sounds like she’s trying to seduce someone. “I want to know why you decided to cancel all of your appointments on Friday and Saturday.”

“I--”

“Yuri said that you aren’t answering your phone. She couldn’t get a hold of you.”

So, that’s why she’s in the room. When he looks over, he sees Yuri’s eyes lingering with concern. He swallows, deciding it isn’t worth saying anything. How could he? A voice lingers in the back of his mind; from the last time he was in Hyolyn’s office. “ _It’s a job, JunHui. Whether you are into it or not. At least fake it.”_ He pushes the thoughts of the night away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I just... I just had something going on.”

“Next time,” Hyolyn says, leaning forward. “If you have something to do, tell me ahead of time. This is your final warning. Don’t make me regret keeping you on.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, get the hell out of my office.” He stands up, wincing a bit and walking out. His body feels stiff, like a wooden doll. His eyes glassy as he looks forward and focuses on the exit. Behind him, he hears Yuri calling out for him. He stops, turning his head stiffly.

“Are you okay?” she asks, panting a bit.

“I’m fine, why?”

“You... you looked...” JunHui does what he does best: smiling it all away. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he says. “I’m fine. Just stressed. You know, midterms and stuff.” She nods, as if understanding the turmoil that lingers in his mind and heart. A part of him wants to tell someone about that night and the video. The other part of him constantly reminds him that no one would ever believe him. The second voice overrides the other one.

She reaches over and hugs him, her head bumping against the bruises on his neck. He fights the urge to wince, hugging back. Even with the thick scarf he decided to wear, it still hurts like a motherfucker. She smiles, patting him on the back. He gives her his signature smile, walking out of the office building.

In his pocket, he pulls out his phone, staring at a particular message. The one with the video of him and that man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: There is mentions of mental illness and abuse (I believe physical and sexual) in this chapter. 
> 
> For more information about Depersonalization: https://www.merckmanuals.com/en-ca/professional/psychiatric-disorders/dissociative-disorders/depersonalization-derealization-disorder
> 
> Note: None of us are mental health experts, things have been altered for creative purposes. If you are experiencing distressing symptoms, please refer yourself to a mental health professional. Thank you.

#  Three

* * *

Ji Ah returns to her shared flat where Mingyu is lounging on the sofa. She rubs her eyes, and sighs softly. Her heart and head feel heavy as she thinks back to her encounter with MingHao. How stubborn and dead he looked. She couldn’t understand why he does that to himself, why he believes that he isn’t worthy.

Mingyu looks up from his laptop, his fingers stopping mid-type. “Hey babe,” he says, scooting over. “How are you?”

“Exhausted,” she replies, sitting down next to him and laying her head on his shoulder. “I went to see MingHao recently.”

“Oh? How’s he doing?” She couldn’t take it anymore, the burden on her mind. Before she knows it, she spills the entire story out to Mingyu. How he wouldn’t eat, sleep or anything that’d be considered a basic necessity to human existence. She rubs her eyes again, flopping back against the couch.

He’s quiet for a moment. He stares at his computer, his mouth turning into a frown. “Maybe… Maybe you shouldn’t baby him so much. It’s like you’re smothering him…” he says, avoiding her eyes. “MingHao isn’t someone we should keep babying. He’ll continue to go on this downward spiral.”

Ji Ah looks at him, wanting to argue but she couldn’t even think of a feasible argument back. Mingyu is right, if she continues this MingHao will self-destruct. She leans against his shoulders. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he mutters. “MingHao will eventually get himself out.”

She nods but not entirely sure if she believes it. 

It’s difficult for her, after being friends with MingHao for so long and helping him through his attacks and self-doubting, she’s grown to be very protective of him. Like he’s the brother she never got to have. He’s like family to her now, and family always help family. So, it will be hard to back off and let MingHao figure out things on his own. She knows she can’t possibly have the answer to everything, the solution to everything. She won’t always know what to do.

That part makes her feel like a failure, something MingHao always claims himself as. But she does her best to stay positive through it all, or else.

Mingyu gets that this is hard on her by the way she falls over onto her side into a fetal position and zones out deep in thoughts. He reaches over and rubs the front of her shin in hopes his touch could calm her down. MingHao has also become like family to Mingyu, and so he truly cares for the guy like she does. He only wants the best for him, but he knows that there are limits. He knows there’s the chance of overdoing it. He tries to get Ji Ah to understand, but her kind heart just can’t bare the thought of leaving MingHao on his own, he gets that. But she has to, or else MingHao will never get better, he would never be independent this way.

And he doesn’t want to be selfish, but there’s their relationship they should focus on too. Ji Ah spends too much time thinking and talking about MingHao than Mingyu. He understands why and doesn’t get jealous. But it does bother him sometimes when he wants to make plans for a date night, but Ji Ah declines and expresses how worried she is about MingHao. He doesn’t want her to develop an unhealthy habit of always stressing about her best friend.

“It’s late, let’s go to sleep, okay?” Mingyu turns off his laptop and sets it on the coffee table before he gets up to head towards their shared bedroom. He quickly notices that she doesn’t follow him, and he looks back to see she’s fast asleep on the couch. He walks over to wake her, but she groans in reply, not wanting to be bothered. He lets out a quiet chuckle and proceeds to scoop her up into his arms to carry to their room. She doesn’t wake up when he sets her down on her side of the bed and tucks her in. He leans down and gives her a light peck on her forehead before making his way over to his side of their bed. He’s careful and makes sure not to shake the bed while he crawls into place.

Once he’s settled, he lies on his side and faces his sleeping girlfriend with a quiet sigh. He’s not exactly sleepy right now and knows it might be awhile. Even so, he wills himself to fall asleep anyway. But just as he’s about to, he catches a small whimper from Ji Ah and he quickly looks over. He can tell she’s not having a pleasant dream right now and it makes him frown. It’s always like this on nights when she’s stressed, especially about MingHao. He works on scooting closer towards her, so he could cuddle her, he knows it always helps. When he gets close, it’s like she sensed him near and turns over to meet him halfway. It makes him smile whenever she does that, he likes the thought of being needed like this. He wraps his strong arm around her and holds her close while whispering a goodnight and then closes his eyes, ready for sleep to take over.

~***~

_ The smell of wine wafts through the air and the sound of bells ring through the house, while someone shouts. It sounds like there’s a party happening. Footsteps echo loudly through the small home, located on the outskirts of China. Underneath the stairwell; locked in a little closet, a little boy sits. His legs feel numb from sitting too long. His stomach growls, the hunger pains dig into his sides; ebbing away at his flesh. _

_ His throat feels dry and his bladder full. He squirms in his spot, trying hard not to make a sound. If he does, he fears of what his parents would do if he does. MingHao shivers, wiping away the fat tears that drip down his cheeks. It gets so bad that he begins tapping on the door. _

_ No one comes, he feels himself unable to hold it anymore. He presses against the door and screams. No one comes at all. _

In a jolt, MingHao wakes up. Sweat drips down his back, hair sticks to his forehead as he rubs his eyes in exhaustion. Another horrible dream. Another horrible memory. He presses his head against the wall, blinking blearily at the clock. The bright green numbers taunt him, reading 3:34 am. He growls, wishing he could go back to bed.

_ What are you doing still sleeping? You, lazy piece of shit. _

He gets out of bed and grabs his laptop. The next hour, he spends working on his project. His head dips forwards, threatening to fall asleep. MingHao forces himself to keep working, no matter how hard it is. As he does, he thinks back to what Ji Ah said, wondering if he’s trying to kill himself.

It’s a condition. It’s as if his body is used to this, ready to self destruct. He presses his head into his hands, wanting to cry. But crying is for failures, and he couldn’t count how many times his own parents reduced him to tears. He can feel a bundle of emotions coming onto him as he places his head on the table.

It hurts. His heart hurts. His head hurts. Everything hurts. It’s like he’s dying, and he knows that no one will be here to help him. MingHao knows that he drives people away with his stubborn attitude. He knows that he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t need people to constantly remind him of it. He doesn’t need others to tell him how stupid he is.

But, the scary part? The scariest part is that he doesn’t know what to do. Opening up to someone is incredibly hard. Vulnerability is the scariest emotion one could possibly have. It took him years to even tell Ji Ah why he sometimes disappears like that mentally. It took even longer for Mingyu to learn why. He still doesn’t understand it.

Not that MingHao blames him. It’s still something he, himself, doesn’t understand. His mentality isn’t all here and he knows that. Half of him is still that scared little boy that tries his best to not go home. Half of him is rational, the adult in this mess – the half that tells him this is absolutely insane and stupid. And that, he should try to get better.

He can still remember the very first time he walked into the psychiatrist’s office. Half a year of constant begging from Ji Ah for him to even make the appointment. The week before he nearly chickens out. Mingyu was the one who told him to go with it, strapping him into the car and driving him there. MingHao remembers the awkward first introduction – where the poor man was trying his hardest to get something out.

But the words couldn’t even fall out. MingHao’s mouth was stuffed with cotton. He could feel words lingering at the base of his throat, telling him, begging him to release. Yet, he simply couldn’t.

It was three weeks before he finally said anything. It was three weeks of dead end silence that dragged the sessions out into unbearable obligations that he didn’t want to even go to. But when he got the words out, he felt proud of himself. The very first time he felt good about himself was when he was 18. 18 years of feeling awful about himself and having his self-esteem driven into the ground.

9 years of mentally disappearing finally solved as well.

But it was a year on medications that made him jittery. He hated that feeling more than the worthlessness. He hated how loud everything was. That’s why he stopped. He couldn’t handle reality and he knew that.

Now, at 5:13 am, he lifts his head up from his computer, walking past it and towards his bathroom. In there, he opens up his medicine cabinet, grabbing the pills and pouring them in the toilet. For the second time in his life, he feels proud of himself.

~***~

JunHui sits in the corner of his bedroom, hand over his mouth as he watches the video file. The sounds that comes doesn’t even sound like him. It sounds foreign. He can hear everything, the squishing of the lube, the groans and whimpers that come from his mouth. Everything sounds disgusting to him.

He pauses it halfway, closing his eyes. A small tear slipping out. He struggles to regain breathing as he breaks into a full sob. The threatening message that arrived a few minutes after the video was sent breaks him even more. He feels his entire body shake from it.

Helplessness creeps in and he feels cornered. Is this the cost for something he knows how to do so well? Where is the line drawn? All he wants to do is move on from this, move onto a brighter future. But, alas, the video remains as permanent evidence of his true nature.

JunHui throws his head back against the wall, openly sobbing now. The tears wouldn’t stop. He wanted to forget about the rape, it’s an unpleasant memory that he couldn’t erase. It’s painful now, but he believes that time will heal all wounds. Now, it seems like the wound is only getting bigger.

Shakily, he calls the number, putting the phone up. A grunt of a hello greets him.

“Why…?” he whispers. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I told you,” the man says back, his voice dripping in poison. “You have a beautiful voice. Marketable. That first video is simply a test run.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

“Then that one I sent will be released.”

JunHui swallows, wiping the tears that runs down his face. “But… it’s rape. I’ll go to the police.”

The man laughs. Toxic and dangerous. The kind that screams a warning and it paralyzes JunHui. All he could do is grip the phone. “Who’s going to believe you? You’re a prostitute. You should’ve expected this by now. You’re nothing but human filth. Be happy I’m even  _ giving  _ you this opportunity.”

JunHui’s breathing becomes ragged as he processes what the man just said. How he’s nothing but human trash. How he isn’t even worth a single thing. Now, he’s scared about signing his life away. The very last piece of humanity will be taken away if he goes.  _ But,  _ a voice in his head says.  _ What choice do you have?  _ He has a reputation to maintain on the campus. A good student to all during the day and a sex worker by night. He closes his eyes, covering them with his hand and taking in another sob filled breath.

“Don’t cry on the phone for me, pretty boy,” the man says. “I want to capture it on camera. Do you know how many times I jacked off to you?” He suddenly wants to take a knife to his face.

“What do I have to do…?” JunHui asks, his voice failing to remain stable. “Will you delete it…?”

“Only if you come to where I am.” His decision is already made for him. The corner he backed up into pushes him forward, into the hands of the devil himself.

~***~

MingHao wanders into his first class late. He overslept, after falling asleep at his desk, unable to get up again. He rushes in, feeling heat creeping up into his cheeks as he takes out his notebooks. Dr. Cha doesn’t even bat an eye, continuing the lecture. He suffocates, thinking about all of the comments that everyone in the room could say.

They can see how much of a failure he is. They can see how disorganized he is. They can see that he isn’t even fit for this. He isn’t fit for anything more than scrubbing the floors with a small toothbrush.

His chest tightens as he feels a panic attack rise in his gut. His heartbeat echoes in his ears, deafening him. His eyes dart around, looking at the members of his class. No one is looking, so why does he feel like he’s being shoved in the spotlight? Why is his heart constricting so badly that he feels like he might just die right then and there? Is there something wrong with him?

MingHao closes his eyes, trying to take air in. He couldn’t. It’s like his ribcage is too small for his lungs, and if he takes a much-needed breath, he’d break them. And he’s experienced broken ribs before that didn’t heal properly; those fucking hurt. He holds his chest, bent over in his seat.

His vision blurs and someone finally notices.

“MingHao,” the strong yet honey like voice of his professor says. “Breathe. You can do it. Breathe.”

“I’m going to die,” he utters out. “I’m going to die.”  _ Help me, I’m going to die. _

There’s a crowd surrounding the two, Dr. Cha yells at the students to back up. They obey, still looking at the student who’s having a panic attack. He feels Dr. Cha’s hands on his shoulder, guiding his head between his legs. He hears the man tell him to breathe.

Here, he can take a deep breath in. His eyes snap open, and he can see clearly for a moment. His entire body tenses out of habit, but Dr. Cha refuses to remove his hands. Not till MingHao can breathe again, not till he’s okay for the time being.

It takes half of the lecture to get him back to normal, and embarrassment sticks to his body like the summer heat. When it’s over, he walks up to the professor, who’s unplugging his laptop.

“Sir,” he mumbles. “I want to tell you that… Thank you, for… helping me.”

“It’s okay,” Dr. Cha says. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I’m sorry, for interrupting.”

The professor pauses. “MingHao,” he starts. “I want to let you know that I am not being paid to just teach you. I’m here to guide you, and help you grow. Never apologize for interrupting. Your health is important to me.” To MingHao these words mean very little, almost like flies on the wall. But, he keeps listening. “If you ever feel like that again, please know that I’m always here for you. Whatever you’re going through, please, don’t try to go through it alone.”

The words slap him hard across the face, and MingHao finds it hard to blink away stubborn tears that creep into the corners of his eyes. “Uh, yes sir. Thank you.” Dr. Cha smiles and bids him a good day. MingHao stands there, looking over.

A thought pops into his head, the very first thing Ji Ah had ever said to him.

_ “You, out of all people, do not deserve to be alone.” _

But, alone is all he knows how to feel because it’s been with him, like a scar for 20 years. Without it, he isn’t sure who he is. Without it, he isn’t even sure if he’s able to function normally.

~***~

The building JunHui is standing in front of a couple days later, looks like a regular office building. It’s deceiving and that’s the point. To trick stupid people into signing away their lives. He feels himself being one of those people, the ones who are idiotic enough to walk in and sign. But the message weighs heavily on his mind, sending him to the breaking point. He takes a step, opening the door and swallowing down the instinct to run.

His mind screams at him, but he pays it no mind. JunHui continues to walk. The door closes ominously behind him, causing him to jump. The person at the front desk taps their pen, looking directly at him. Their lingering eyes undresses him, grinning every step of the way.

His brain shouts at him, trying hard not to bitch slap him for being so stupid.

JunHui’s body feels frozen as he stares. “Um,” he says, once he finds his voice. “Is… Mr. Kim here?”

“Thirteenth floor, sweetie. Elevators are just down that way.” The person points over to the long hallway. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” JunHui nods, skittering by and pressing the button. He can still feel their eyes linger on him, making him tense up.

The memories of the attack still haunt his mind, tearing him apart like rabid animals. He almost doesn’t want anyone to see him. Maybe they can see the bruises on his neck. Maybe they can still see the bruise on his jaw, underneath all of the foundation he wears. Maybe they can see the fingerprints on his hips and thighs.

The elevator doors open, and he rushes inside, taking a shaky breath. He punches the thirteenth floor, trying to calm himself. It’s like the air in the elevator is being sucked out; he’s suffocating.

The door opens with a loud  _ Ding!  _ scaring him. There’s a pain in his lower back, from when he hit the back of the elevator. His eyes widen when he sees his client in front of the doors with a dark grin spread on his face.

“I see you’ve taken up my proposal.”

“Not by choice…” JunHui mutters, taking a step out. He feels Mr. Kim’s large hands sneak down the curve of his back, touching his ass. He wills himself not to tense, not to flinch away from his touch. Fear rears its ugly head as JunHui feels his body freeze. His breathing becomes laboured and he suddenly wants to run away.

But the touch of Mr. Kim’s hand is a cruel reminder of the threat lingering over him. JunHui prays that this will be over soon. He just has to suck this old bastard’s dick and it’ll be over.

He’s guided into the office, a lush little thing. A picture perfect façade with a dark undertone. When he hears the sound of the door locking behind him, fear irrationally takes over, pinning him to the seat. He can feel Mr. Kim’s hands touching his shoulder, down his chest, over the scarf around his neck, and over his thighs. He hopes his body doesn’t betray him again.

“You have the prettiest voice,” Mr. Kim whispers. “I want to hear you.”

“Please…” JunHui says. “Delete it.”

“Why would I?”

“Wasn’t that the deal?” He turns around, facing the man. “You said – you said you’d delete it if I came. I’m here aren’t I?” Suddenly, he feels strong hands clutching his jaw, silencing him. The dark eyes of Mr. Kim bores into him and he can see anger flickering in the back. For once, fear is a life saver.

“You,” Mr. Kim breathes out, his nostrils flaring and his cheeks red. “You have  _ no right  _ to talk to me like that.” He squeezes a little harder and a small whimper escapes JunHui’s lips. The sound makes him grin. Sickening. “I suppose you have to learn your place.” With that, Mr. Kim runs his blunt nails over JunHui’s scalp, gripping the hair painfully.

JunHui’s hands reach up, holding onto Mr. Kim’s thick wrist for dear life. If he doesn’t, he worries about Mr. Kim ripping out chunks of his hair. “I’m going to teach you,” Mr. Kim says. “I’ll break you till all you’re thinking about is me and only me.”

JunHui didn’t even have a chance to scream.

~***~

Yuri hurries over to Ji Ah, who’s sitting underneath a large tree, half-asleep. She hasn’t been sleeping very well the past few nights due to endless thoughts about everything going on in life. From being worried about MingHao to worrying about completing her internship with a good grade. There are several other trivial things she worries on top of that as well. Eventually, she finds herself running out of time to do anything these days other than going to school, working, eating and sleeping, repeating this routine for the next three days.

Then her full shifts at her internship starts for the whole weekend, so it changes to: work, eat and sleep before having to start the other cycle on Monday. A worried look flashes over her face as the pink haired girl sits down. Ji Ah looks up from her half nap, eyes glazing over at her new-found friend.

“Yuri,” Ji Ah says, with a smile on her face. “What are you—”

“Can you do me a favour?” she asks right away. Ji Ah blinks, nodding without asking why. Yuri shoves her phone into Ji Ah’s hands. A series of messages between her and JunHui appears in Ji Ah’s view.

“Have you noticed him acting different lately?” Yuri asks, hopeful that it's not just her noticing this.

“I haven't seen him around much, sorry. I can't answer. But these texts do seem odd compared to how he’d reply to you before.” She notes the long winded messages that JunHui would sometimes write dwindling down to a couple of words then to nothing at all.

“Right?!”

“Well, I did notice Hao has been acting…” she trails off, trying to think of the correct words to describe it. She would say strange but it wasn't strange; it was something he's done before when he distances himself. She knows he's going through an episode and just needs his space.

“Has he been acting strange too?”

“I guess, yeah.” Ji Ah nods and let's out a small sigh. She knows it's not her place to talk about her friend's problems with Yuri. They still don't know each other that well yet.

“Damn, I'm worried.” Yuri sounds a little frustrated and Ji Ah understands, she really does. “What should I do?”

“Indeed… what do we do?”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to burden you with this, I was just a bit…” Yuri looks apologetic. Ji Ah gives her a warm smile and reaches out to pat her pink haired friend on her shoulder. “I can’t think properly on an empty stomach. Wanna get a snack at the student store? My treat!”

“Sure.” Ji Ah's expression lit up, perfect timing too since she’s getting a bit hungry. With that, Yuri gets up first and helps her friend up onto her feet before linking their arms together. Ji Ah can smell a strong flowery perfume off of her friend; wondering if that’s part of the role she plays at night.

When they arrive, they're quick about picking their snacks and checking out. They take a seat on the bench near the student store to relax and eat. They talk about a few trivial things like what kind of music they listen to and what's their favourite snacks. The typical ‘get to know you better’ kind of questions, despite it’s been a few weeks since they met. But they’re college students and are pretty busy with their own things. So, it’s only naturally they haven’t been able to get to know each other that well yet. 

Eventually, Yuri notices a tall and strong figure standing a few feet away from the bench they're sitting on. The figure’s eyes never left the two girls the entire time they were talking. She’s slightly concerned and is about to suggest leaving until she sees a cute face peer around the tough looking person's shoulder. It looks like he wants to talk to them but Yuri’s never seen them before in her life.

Wait, maybe it's a recent client? Now she's suddenly hiding and using Ji Ah as as shield.

“What is it?” Ji Ah asks and follows Yuri’s gaze, she looks over her shoulder and notices a pair of familiar face. “Ah, excuse me for a moment, Yuri!” she says quickly, getting up to greet the two. “Hello, Baekho! Hello, Ren!” She greets with a kind smile after tilting her body to peek at him behind his muscular friend. “Did you two just get out of class?”

“Yes,” Baekho replies for Ren with a bright smile.

“It's nice to see you two, how are you?” Her tone is gentle and sweet like candied apples. Which makes Ren flustered; his anxiety revving up, but he sucks it up and takes a step out to speak to her properly.

“I'm…” he starts to say struggling a bit, but Ji Ah patiently waits for him to continue. That simple gesture warms his heart; people are always too quick to give up and walk away when he struggles to get the words out. That’s why he has his friend Baekho who helps him communicate with others. But despite knowing Ji Ah as the part-time receptionist at his father’s therapy office, he still struggles to speak in front of her. 

“Ren is feeling good today,” Baekho supplies when a minute passes by without another word. Ren’s face turns into a frown, giving Ji Ah a ‘sorry for taking too long’ look, but her friendly giggle tells him that it’s fine.

“I'm glad!” she beams. “By the way, did you get a good grade on your midterms?”

“Y-Yes… actually I did.” Ren says, smiling shyly. He likes how she’s interested in his grades and his head dips down, with a faint blush across his cheeks. The sight alone is enough to melt the polar ice caps.  

“That's awesome! Good job!” She's tempted to reach out and pet him on his head. He's just so adorable with his fluffy brown hair that falls over his face. He looks like a Golden Retriever puppy with his big brown eyes. But she stops herself; knowing it would be inappropriate and would make him uncomfortable. She notices he likes her praise which, doesn't help her urge to pinch his cheeks whenever he smiles.

“Ren noticed you and wanted to say hello,” Baekho says, snapping her out of her cuteness overload high.

“Aw. That’s so sweet,” she coos. This causes Ren to flush even more, red overpowering his pale skin. He responds with a small squeak (a squeak!) and burying his face into Baekho’s back. Ji Ah couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

“I, I, uh... I haven't seen Hao at the office lately. Has he gotten better?” It takes her a moment to realize that Ren’s referring to the therapist’s office she works at that he and MingHao both attend to weekly. Both attend roughly at the same time; with Ren being an hour before MingHao.

“You haven't been seeing him there?” Ji Ah’s eyes widen at this new piece of information, this is news to her since she only works the evenings during the week and rarely has to schedule MingHao’s appointments. She thinks back to the time when MingHao basically lied straight to her face and she had no idea.

The only reason she absolutely had no idea was because she’s also been busy with studying and working on her midterms last week in her free time to check on MingHao and his therapy sessions. But wouldn’t Wonshik have called her about MingHao missing therapy? She is his emergency contact, unless it would be breaking some kind of confidentiality code? The ins and outs of therapy is difficult, even for someone about to go into that field. She sighs, thinking about what to do. 

“You didn't know about it?” Baekho asks, studying her face. Her mouth twists into a frown, thoughts racing around. He could tell that this information is bothering her.

“No, I didn’t.” She shakes her head and thinks for a few seconds before looking up at Ren. He looks apologetic, his fingers playing with the hem of his sweater. She can hear his breathing speeding up; as if he’s the reason for their friendship breaking apart. “Don't worry. I'm glad you told me.”

“But don't be upset!” Ren is quick to say. “Don't be upset!” Ji Ah is slightly confused on why he sounds desperate for her not to be upset with MingHao. She glances to Baekho for a possible answer.

“It's hard to understand when we've yet to experience what they have,” he explains, gesturing vaguely over at Ren. “But we try to – understand I mean.”

“Sometimes it's difficult,” Ren speaks up, his eyes locked onto the floor beneath him, his head low while he thinks up his next sentence. “The sessions, I mean. I don't know why Hao hasn't been showing up, but I could understand if it just got too hard doing it every week. It’s so… exhausting sometimes”

“I understand,” Ji Ah said with a sad smile. He looks up, hopeful that she truly understands. “Or at least I'm trying to understand. I just don't want anything bad to happen, that's all.”

“Of course! Of course!” Ren blurts out. “I think we can trust Hao… right?” He glances back to his older friend who nods in agreement. He looks back to Ji Ah, who gives a more genuine smile.

“Yeah, we can trust him.” She nods. Her mood lightens up considerably when she sees Ren’s head lifting up from staring at the floor. His fingers stop playing with the hem of his sweater. “Well, I'll let you two go for now, I should get back to my other friend.” She feels bad for cutting things short, but she can't make Yuri wait much longer. “I hope to see you two around more often!”

“Same, same!” Ren says, nodding enthusiastic. She thinks it's cute that he repeats his statements twice. But she wonders why, perhaps it's a habit of his or something?

“Bye for now!” She gives a small wave and returns to the bench where Yuri was pouting.

“Literally thought you forgot about me for and moment there,” she says, frowning into her bag of chips.

“Sorry!” Ji Ah laughs. “They were, uh, acquaintances of Hao’s.”

“I see.” There’s a beat of silence between the two before Yuri speaks up again. “Is everything okay?” Ji Ah nods, smiling tightly. She’s unsure how much she could say about MingHao. The two simply sit together, eating silently. Both of them unsure of what to do.

“I like the shade of pink your hair has faded too, reminds me of Rose Quartz.” Ji Ah breaks the silence and points to Yuri’s colored hair.

“Really? Thanks. I like your jet-black hair,” Yuri replies with a chuckle. “Have you ever thought of coloring your hair? I think a shade of blue would look good on you, something like Serenity? Rose Quartz and Serenity make a good pair, don’t you think?”

“You think so? I might just have to try that sometime.” Ji Ah smiles, she’s glad the atmosphere isn’t as awkward anymore now that they’re on a subject they both like. However, when talks about cutting hair came about, Ji Ah’s look of horror tells it all, causing Yuri to laugh.

Ji Ah tells her about the struggles of growing out her hair till it almost reaches her waist, pointing out how Yuri wouldn’t know. Yuri raises an eyebrow, as if challenged by the mere thought of hair struggle. Which leads to them telling each other stories about growing up with their hair and the journeys they’ve had to get to where they are today. By 5 pm, Yuri tells Ji Ah that she has to go; saying, “We should do this more often.”

“Yes,” Ji Ah says. “Yes, we should.” With that, the two part ways. On her way home, Ji Ah giggles about the time spent on talking about hair. Hair out all the things.  _ We really did spend half an hour talking about hair _ , Ji Ah giggles.  _ Next time we’ll spend an hour talking about eyebrows. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: None of us are mental health experts, things have been altered for creative purposes. If you are experiencing distressing symptoms, please refer yourself to a mental health professional. Thank you.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's being uploaded again. Honestly, I didn't expect to wait till the day before Halloween to have it updated. Just the past 2 weeks has been crazy busy where neither one of us had any time to write. So, we're both sorry for the delay. This may happen again as real life kicks our ass. But thank you so much for your patience. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: There are mentions of abuse in here as well as prostitution. If you are uncomfortable with this chapter, please don't read it. If you are feeling unsafe, please contact your local emergency line or head to the nearest hospital.

#  Four

* * *

JunHui chokes as he grips onto something, anything for support. The man he’s with chokes him with great pride. The look of sadistic pleasure is probably turning on some other sadistic motherfucker on the other side of the camera. His hands snake around the man’s thighs, gripping them for support. He feels his head go light, the lack of oxygen is getting to him. Finally, that man pulls away; strings of salvia connects the two. JunHui resists wiping away the spit and tears that’s on his face.

He looks over at the camera, the one in the corner. He sees himself in the viewfinder; looking wrecked. There’re tears running down his face, like he’s scared. And to speak honestly, he is. JunHui is terrified of disobeying Mr. Kim. If the burn marks on the soles of his feet say anything about the power Mr. Kim holds above his head.

So, he listens to the man’s commands. Burying his face into a pillow like the good boy he is. Moaning at the right moments and moving his hips to pretend that he likes it. It hurts more to fight against it than it is to fake it. In the past week, he’s gotten good at faking his orgasm. The man finally cums, and the session ends.

The camera is turned off; with the money counter in the corner reaching a good amount. An amount that’s acceptable for Mr. Kim. He smiles, as his bank account rises. JunHui gets about 25% of what he made today. A wage that’s barely survivable. It’s like surviving on instant noodles and sliced cheese.

Mr. Kim walks over, shoving his phone into JunHui’s face. “You got paid,” he says, with as much affection as a cactus. “Get out of my office.” He swallows, picking up his clothes, slipping them on and nearly stumbling out of that suffocating floor. He grips his hoodies’ hood, swallowing down the reaction to scream.

He can feel tears dripping down his face as he wills himself out. As he does, he crashes into someone.

“JunHui!” a voice says, making him freeze. He stiffly turns out, seeing Mingyu and Ji Ah there. Quickly, he wipes his face and plasters on a fake smile.

“Oh, hi,” he says. “How are you?”

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks. “You were barrelling out of there really fast.”

“I’m fine. Just… tired. That’s all.” Mingyu seems to take the lie, but Ji Ah, she requires a little more convincing. Her critical eyes bear themselves into JunHui’s. He swallows, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“How have you been?” she asks. “Yuri’s worried about you.”

He lets out a nervous giggle, trying not to think about Yuri’s worried look. He tries not to think about the million and one text messages he got from her. “Busy. School and work is really… taxing.”

“So,” Mingyu says, breaking the tension. “What  _ do  _ you do, as a job I mean?”

“I’m a male model,” JunHui says, letting his lie slip out easily. He couldn’t believe how easy it’s been to lie to people. But, he did have 10 years to practice. “Anyways, I have to go.” He rushes down the street, not thinking about the calls from Ji Ah. Not thinking about Mr. Kim’s disgusting lips on his own. Not thinking about how tainted he is; where all he’s good at is pleasuring other sick bastards.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck. Fuck.” Tears blur his vision again, causing him to run blindly. Another crash and JunHui falls on his sore butt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles out. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Why… Why would I hurt you?” JunHui wipes away his tears, looking up. An outstretched hand lands in front of him and MingHao’s face in his view. His head spins and suddenly, there’s black spots everywhere. Next thing he knows, he’s on the ground, barely conscious.

~***~

MingHao doesn’t know what to do, in front of him, in the middle of the street; there’s a passed-out boy. JunHui’s light brown hair dusts the top of his eyes, while his long eyelashes nearly touch his cheeks. MingHao looks around before sighing, tying his small bag of groceries and grabbing him by the hips, wincing as he does. The sharp edges of the bone stabs itself into MingHao’s hands, almost causing him to drop the other. MingHao’s jaw nearly drops from how light the older is.

His childish head rolls onto the younger’s shoulder; causing a ripple of electricity through his body. MingHao’s cheeks reddens; as he drags JunHui to his apartment. He nearly stumbles into his bedroom, tripping over the slippers at the doorway. His grip unconsciously tightens around JunHui’s waist. It reminds the younger of the times when he’d take Ji Ah home after she fell asleep at the school library from studying too hard.

MingHao places JunHui on his bed, tucking him in. He looks down on JunHui sleeping soundly in his bed. He watches the older snuggle into the bed, curling up slightly. MingHao sighs slightly, putting away his groceries. When he looks back, a small smile dances on his face. It’s strange to think of someone as cute, but he does.

JunHui is cute.

MingHao takes a seat at his desk, staring at his computer. His mind drifts back to the look of desperation on the older’s face. It reminds him too much of himself whenever he looks at himself in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes are glaring.

He boots up his photo editing software, looking at some of the pictures he had taken a few weeks ago. One of them, the one with JunHui standing underneath the streetlight. He stares at it, noting how the light shines down over him, like a halo. It makes the other student look absolutely ethereal.

He tilts his head, enhancing the picture slightly; seeing the dark red that leaks through JunHui’s sweater. It’s terrifying how similar to fingerprint marks those bruises were. MingHao shudders as another sweeping memory comes at him like a tornado. He feels himself being whisked away as he thinks about the times his parents would try their absolute best to silence him.

If the yelling and screaming weren’t enough, there were sometimes hits. Attacks on MingHao’s very being. His small body couldn’t handle some of them, cracking and breaking easily. He remembers going to school, a body littered with bruises and sprains. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, he’d be taken to the school nurse for something to soothe the pain.

If he isn’t, he stays at home, suffering through the pain silently. In his room, under the stairs like a good child.

He shakes those thoughts out of his head and focuses back on his assignment. But JunHui’s small voice echoes in the back of his mind. Like a metronome.

Moments later, a knock at his front door pulls him out of his stupor. MingHao lifts his head, exhausted and quite frankly, annoyed at the sudden interruption. He gets up, closing his bedroom door and unlocking his front door to see Ji Ah and Mingyu there with some takeout in their hands.

“I wanted to see you,” Ji Ah says, pushing her way in. MingHao looks at Mingyu, confused.

“I thought you guys had a date tonight.”

“So, did I,” Mingyu replies, entering the small flat as well. “But Ji Ah had something to talk to you about.” MingHao tenses, unsure why he feels like he’s being called into the principal’s office. Ji Ah sits on the sofa, her soft eyes narrowing slightly as her back is rigid. It’s like looking at an angry Bichon Friese. MingHao takes a seat in his chair, just as equally stiff, while Mingyu spreads himself on the other sofa.

Ji Ah starts talking, at her normal vocal level. Every so often, MingHao’s eyes would wander over to his closed bedroom door. In the background, he can hear her voice getting higher and higher, to the point that it’s shrill. But, his conditioning tells him to silence himself. Don’t speak until spoken to. He swallows, hearing her words clearly. The appointments. The ones he couldn’t bring himself to go to anymore.

“Can you… I’m sorry Ji Ah,” he mutters, stopping her lecture. “I didn’t mean to… I mean.” Words sometimes fail him, especially whenever he’s trying explain himself. He closes his eyes, waiting for the explanation to come. Nothing. He’s drawing a blank. So, he selfishly uses his unconscious guest as a distraction.

“JunHui…” MingHao says, gesturing vaguely.

“We saw him earlier,” Mingyu supplies, helpfully. “He was in a rush.”

“What about him?” Ji Ah asks.

“He’s… he’s asleep in my bedroom.” Both of them snap their attention to MingHao’s closed bedroom door. Mingyu stumbles off of the sofa, landing on the ground with an undignified  _ thump _ . Ji Ah shoots her boyfriend a glare, getting up and heading over to the closed bedroom door. MingHao hurries after her, with Mingyu following closely behind. Ji Ah stands in his bedroom, staring at the sleeping boy. MingHao rubs his arms, looking everywhere but at the bed.

“I don’t know what to do…” he murmurs. “I just put him in my bed…”

“He was pretty scuffed up,” Mingyu says, walking over and pulling the covers away. “Yeah, like this hoodie is pretty dirty. Maybe you can wash it.”

Ji Ah nods. “I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” MingHao looks at his friends, nibbling at his lower lip; unsure. After a moment, he nods, walking over and helping Mingyu sit JunHui up, his upper body falling over slightly. He doesn’t wake up as Ji Ah slips the hoodie off. In their view, they see a cluster of colourful bruises, decorating JunHui’s skin. The air in the room completely disappears.

MingHao closes his eyes, not in shock, but in guilt. How is he supposed to know about something that’s being hidden? Mingyu and Ji Ah’s eyes look wide, staring at the bruises so dark they could be black. JunHui’s head falls forward, limp. It’s like they’re holding a ragdoll, one that could break at any moment. And MingHao thought he was broken. He wishes he knew how long these bruises were there.

“Wha-what happened to him?” Mingyu asks. “Is this…?”

“There were marks on his neck,” MingHao whispers out. “When I saw him… a while back. I saw these… hand marks on his neck.”

“Is someone doing this to him?” Mingyu drops his side, JunHui falling over onto MingHao. MingHao tries not to think about how sweet JunHui smells. Like fresh cut grass or the fresh smell of rain. “Who do I have to beat up?”

“Mingyu,” Ji Ah says, dropping the hoodie. “Stop. We ne-need to make sure he’s okay first.” Her voice wobbles, big tears lingering in her eyes. MingHao remembers the first time he told her about the treatment his family gives him. He remembers how she cried when he finished. He remembers wondering why she cries.

It took him a year after to realize that she doesn’t cry for herself. Instead, she cries for those who couldn’t cry. 

“I hope he wakes up soon,” Mingyu says. “I want to know.”

“Yeah,” MingHao says, catching himself running his fingers through JunHui’s soft hair, it feels natural to him when doing so. “I do too.”

~***~

JunHui’s eyelids feel heavy, like there’s two thousand tons sitting on him. His chest feels cold, so he curls up into a tight little ball.  _ Fucking heater _ , he thinks, pulling the puffy blanket around him.  _ Must be broken again.  _ Something warm presses into his back, with strong arms wrapping around his waist causes his eyes to shoot open. He jolts up, looking down at whatever just decided to spoon him.

Next to him, he sees MingHao; sleeping soundly without a scowl on his face. A pretty little thing if he didn’t frown all the time. Asleep, JunHui finally gets to see the delicate features of his face. The curve of his jaw mixed with his cute nose. A strange yet attractive combination. JunHui almost wants to reach out and gently caress his face, but he pulls away. Fearful of contaminating what isn’t his.

Maybe it’s because of exhaustion or maybe it’s because he’s half-asleep, but JunHui doesn’t register that he’s in a different room. He doesn’t register that he’s not at his crappy apartment on the wrong side of town. He doesn’t even register that he’s topless and in his boxers. Instead, he falls back down on the soft bed and curl into the big heater next to him. Experimentally, he places his head on MingHao’s shoulder.

MingHao doesn’t even stir, his chest rising and lowering at a steady pace. JunHui tries placing his arms across his chest, watching MingHao’s face. Not a stir. JunHui, then, pulls away, pressing himself against the wall with his arms over his chest. His large eyes continue to watch, his heart pounding loudly in his head. He wonders if he’s going to die or if his heart is going to break out of his chest.

JunHui isn’t sure how he’s going to get out of the bed, how he’s supposed to parkour over the sleeping log in front of him. In what seems like forever, MingHao finally wakes up. Ever so groggily and slowly, MingHao lifts himself from the bed. Looking like the living dead. JunHui does what he normally does in situations like these, bunch the blankets and pillows up in front of him. As if pillows and blankets could do anything.

MingHao blinks sleepily, looking over. “What are you doing?” his voice sounds rough, thick with sleep.

“Nothing,” JunHui replies.

“You look like you’re trying to cover your chest.” JunHui looks down, staring at his posture. Hunched over, holding a pillow and blanket in front of his chest. It takes a moment for everything to register, and when it does, a bucket of ice cold water pours over him. His entire body stiffens, and his mouth is dry.

How much did he see? Did he see the nearly black coloured bruises that decorate his chest? Another fear enters his mind, one darker than the first. What does he think of JunHui? Does he hate him? Will he hate him if he tells MingHao everything?

He swallows, realizing how dry his throat is.

“How much… how much did you see?” JunHui asks, his voice small. He hates himself for feeling so weak but, he couldn’t possibly get any louder. If he does, he worries about his voice breaking apart; crumbling into dust on the ground. It’s terrifying for him to break down so damn easily when he was raised not to even make a single sound.

“Are you okay?” MingHao asks instead. “I… you – I want to know if you’re okay.”

JunHui blinks. “What?”

“Are. You. Okay?” MingHao’s eyes grow wide when he sees tears suddenly slip from JunHui’s eyes. Like a dam opening, he begins to cry, wiping furiously at his cheeks. Embarrassed by it all, JunHui buries his face into MingHao’s pillow. It smells like him; it smells like fabric softener. God, he’s such a mess.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles out. “I’m fine.”

“What happened to you?”

JunHui doesn’t know how much he could say. Not without throwing himself to a bunch of sharks. Swallowing, he turns his attention back onto MingHao. “You tell me first,” he says. “When you ran off. And… when you refused to eat. Why?”

He sees MingHao’s shoulders tense up. He watches the younger curl himself up, as if wanting to be smaller. Hidden. He pulls his knees up and suddenly, MingHao doesn’t seem so big anymore. Suddenly, MingHao is the same as JunHui and something inside of them click. Like a button fastening into place.

“I… It’s hard,” MingHao mutters. “It’s hard to talk about. Can I assume that it’s hard for you too?”

“There’s so many things,” JunHui replies, closing his eyes. “So many things, and it’s like…”

“You’re drowning?” He nods. “I’ll,” MingHao takes a shaky breath. JunHui imagines it’s like breathing in glass. “I’ll try, to say something.” They sit in silence as MingHao gathers his thoughts. JunHui thinks it’s like gathering dust particles; things that are impossible to see and impossible to piece together. Like they’re floating in subspace, just barely out of reach. He sees his own thoughts and memories as fragmentations. Ones that require work to fix.

He presses his face into the pillow again.

It’s scary. It’s scary to throw yourself into such a vulnerable time; like throwing yourself into a pit of lava. Except the death isn’t so glamorous. It’s painful, reopening old wounds that should’ve healed years ago. JunHui doesn’t know if he could handle the pain of going through and tearing them apart with his bear hands. At least, he’ll have MingHao to bleed out with him.

“As a kid,” MingHao starts, his voice shaking already. “My parents, they, they weren’t good people. And sometimes, I’d get… beaten or yelled at or anything to keep me from… succeeding. It’s like… I’m nothing to them. You know? It’s the same people who brought me into life, but I don’t think they’re strong enough to be parents.

It’s been a while, but… I don’t think I’ll get any better without some help… I had medications to help with my mental instability but – I’m the dumbass who flushed them down the toilet,” MingHao says, playing with his fingernails. “I think, I have to go back to therapy.”

“I’m sorry,” JunHui says, unsure of what to say after. But he sees tears streaming down MingHao’s face, like golden waterfalls. “It must have been hard.”

“Life itself is hard,” he replies. “But someone told me that I don’t deserve to go through it alone.” JunHui wants to hold his hand and tell him that everything is going to be alright. Eventually, everything will be alright. MingHao looks over at him, quietly wiping his own tears away. “What about you? What happened?”

JunHui doesn’t know why he continually tenses up whenever someone asks him about it. It’s like his own body is betraying him. Like he’s being forced to swallow down the bitter truths that lie in his wake. It’s basically now or never. Either let him forever hold his peace or die knowing that MingHao will never trust him ever again. His eyes flutter shut as he pulls out those fragmented pieces again.

They barely fit together, not when the cracks are ever so evident.

“I’m a prostitute,” he finally admits. “I use my body for money, and recently… a client raped me.” The word ‘rape’ is bitter on his tongue; like something he doesn’t ever want to hear or say. The word remains bitter, like cold medication. Being raped is labelling him, telling everyone that he’s weak. Or that it’s his fault. “We shouldn’t be friends becau—”

“It isn’t your fault,” MingHao says, looking at his hands.

“What?”

“I said, that whatever happened isn’t your fault.”

JunHui’s mind goes into disarray. “But it is. I’m a prostitute and we—”

“That doesn’t matter,” MingHao replies, his voice slightly harsher than it should’ve been. JunHui snaps his mouth shut. “It doesn’t fucking matter. Rape is rape, no matter who it happens to.” His eyebrows furrow, and he glares at his hands even more. Like they did some kind of injustice to him. “Being a prostitute doesn’t make you any less of a human, and it’s horrible! You’re not… I mean, you just aren’t some…” MingHao makes an inhuman noise of frustration.

“Thank you,” JunHui says. “Thank you for believing me.”

A beat of silence. “Are you planning to…?” MingHao gestures vaguely. “Go to the police?”

JunHui shakes his head, pulling himself closer. “I don’t want to remember it, that’s why. I know what the police do. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it…” He thinks about the times his female coworkers went to the police and gotten torn apart like watermelons. Broken up into pieces where they’re just empty shells of their former glory. He doesn’t want to become that. He doesn’t think he could handle himself if he fell into that kind of pattern.

He swallows. “I’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll be okay. It just takes time.”

“Will you really be okay?”

JunHui likes to believe so. He likes to think about the positive future. One that’s dwindling as he feels the touches of Mr. Kim on his shoulders. His breath on his neck and his fingers down his throat. But that’s something he doesn’t want MingHao to know just yet. He doesn’t think he could handle that aspect of himself to be shown.

“Thanks,” JunHui says, pulling the blanket off of himself. “Thanks for letting me crash at your place.” MingHao replies in a grunt, maneuvering so JunHui can get out of bed.

“I hope you buy me coffee on Monday morning.”

JunHui lets out a laugh; a genuine this time. “Sure. How do you take it?”

~***~

It takes him three days to finally meet up with Yuri. It isn’t like JunHui wanted to avoid her; that’s never the case. It’s more of him being unable to put his feelings into words. Even saying it to MingHao was hard and they barely know each other.

Now, imagine saying that to someone who loves you dearly. That’s like twisting a knife into their backs and watching them bleed. JunHui isn’t sure how much he’s willing to sacrifice for the sake of his friendship. There’s just so many fears lingering inside of his head.

Yuri’s hair changed colours recently, JunHui notes as he walks into the local school café. It’s now a lighter pink with light blue accents. But it’s her who waves him down frantically; patting the seat across from her. He shouldn’t have to do it here but he does. He decides that it has to be now or else he’ll never get around doing it.

“Hey, how are you?” she asks. “You went MIA for, like, three weeks.”

“Yeah…” he laughs nervously. “Busy…”

“Do you want to get out of here? I can barely hear you.” He nods, following her out and towards her car. It’s safer there but much more intimate. Like he’s confessing his feelings for her, even though he knows that she’s taken.

She leans back in the driver’s spot; not moving or driving. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

Wordlessly, he lifts up his shirt. Her eyes wander down to the cluster of bruises on his abdomen. Those disgusting things that scar him mentally. Her face falls.

“Oh JunHui,” she says, pulling him into her arms. He curls up, as best as he could, into her, hugging her back.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers out. “I really am.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replies. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. I can understand.” He nods, closing his eyes and letting exhaustion take him down.

God, he hopes everything will be okay in the end. He isn’t sure what might happen if it wasn’t.

~***~

Mingyu leans against Ji Ah as they watch the latest drama on their TV. Mingyu looks over at Ji Ah, noticing that she isn’t even paying attention to the show. She’s staring at her phone, nibbling on her bottom lip. He reaches over and pauses the show.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks. “Do you want to watch something else?”

“It’s not that…” Ji Ah replies, turning off her phone. “I’m just… worried.”

“About Hao?” Mingyu thinks back to the dark circles that plague his friend’s skin and eyes. He can’t help but think that MingHao isn’t sleeping, again. As much as he loves his friend, he can’t help but feel frustrated at how stupid MingHao could be. Can’t he see how much pain he’s causing to his loved ones?

But it’s not Mingyu’s place to say anything.

Ji Ah shakes her head. “No.” She pauses for a moment. “Do you remember when we saw JunHui at Hao’s place?” Mingyu stiffens, remembering the bruises littered over the other’s body.

He couldn’t even fathom what caused those blacken bruises. In fact, if that’s what’s hidden on his chest, Mingyu doesn’t want to know how dark the bruises are on the rest of his body. But there’s something that nags at Mingyu’s mind. Most people don’t get bruises like that from modelling.

“Ji Ah,” he says, sitting up. “Do you believe that JunHui is actually a model?” He doesn’t notice how Ji Ah sucks in a sharp breath. She holds it, staring at Mingyu – who is staring at the frozen TV screen. His mouth is turned into a frown as his eyebrows furrowing.

“Um,” she says, trying to think of a lie. She remembers how JunHui looked uncomfortable the first time she met him. She assumes that he wouldn’t have said anything if Yuri didn’t say anything.

“I mean,” Mingyu says, turning to Ji Ah. “You don’t get those kinds of bruises as a model.” She nods slowly, staring at Mingyu and death gripping her phone. She listens to his crazy theories, that is till Mingyu says, “Maybe he got beaten up by a pimp or something.” He chuckles, shaking his head. Ji Ah doesn’t say anything, she looks over at the TV, turning it back on. She’s not one to lie to her boyfriend, but when it comes to someone else’s business, there’s an exception. She must not spill the secret that JunHui actually is a prostitute. She’s not entirely sure what Mingyu would do if he found out?

He’d probably be shocked more than anything. Thinking about it now, she’s sure that those bruises had to do with JunHui’s job. She believes he must’ve gotten a violent client or something and then the guilt starts settling in. She feels bad for him. Wishing she could talk to him about it, but she can’t. There’s a chance JunHui wouldn’t want to talk to her about it in the first place. All she could do for now is pray that JunHui isn’t in any kind of danger. But, what happens if the next time he encounters someone violent, he gets killed?  

She shakes her head to snap out of it.  She cares for JunHui, but those kinds of worried thoughts will be what keeps her up all night.  _ I have to trust JunHui. I’m sure he knows how to stay out of trouble, right? _ MingHao seems to really like this guy, too. Ji Ah has her fingers crossed, hoping that despite their differences and circumstances, they both could find happiness with each other. She can’t intervene, she has to trust them, no matter how worried she gets.

~***~

Supposedly, whenever someone let's go of a heavy secret, it’s like throwing weights off of yourself; theoretically, they should feel lighter. Not JunHui, he feels heavier; unsure if he should say. He’s unsure about a lot of things. It’s never been being fearful of what complete strangers would say, rather, it’s fear of an uncertain reaction from people he loves. He can feel his chest tighten every time he’s held at a virtual gunpoint by Mr. Kim. He’s sometimes on a verge of absolute panic and he isn’t sure how to handle it.

“JunHui!” WonWoo’s voice scares him out of a light sleep. The first sleep he’s gotten in a while. He scowls, glaring up at his friend; who gives him a pathetic apologetic look. “What are you doing here?”

“Studying?” he replies, cocking his head a bit.

“Sleeping?”

JunHui’s cheeks redden, suddenly embarrassed by his nap. Maybe it’s more of the way WonWoo said it. WonWoo ignores his friend’s despair, sitting down next to him. His cologne makes JunHui sick, it’s pungent. Suffocating almost. His body suddenly wants to throw up, or run. He isn’t even sure why he feels like this. Mr. Kim isn’t here, he isn’t in the background. Nor is he lurking in the shadows like a vampire. So, why is JunHui feeling like he’s going to throw up?

Why is his heart beating so loudly and so painfully? Why is he suddenly losing all the air in his body?

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, dipping his head down. “Can you back away?” WonWoo looks at him, confused but obeys. He sits just far enough away and every screaming nerve in his body calms down. JunHui wants to smack himself for being like that. He’s a god-awful friend.

“Are you okay?” WonWoo asks. “You’re… being different.”

JunHui wants to wave it off; say it’s stress of school and work (the modelling world is a stressful world, as WonWoo would say). His failing grades aren’t helping his mental state. But he couldn’t bring himself to. His lips are frozen; his throat closed and suddenly he finds himself choking for air.

So, he does what he does best. He smiles. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m just really tired.”

“Are you having your nightmares again?” JunHui stiffens, hands gripping the edge of his sweater sleeves. He hasn’t had  _ those  _ kinds of nightmares in years. Instead, it’s been an entirely new set of dreams; ones with a setting in real life.

“No,” he snaps, a little harsher than he intended to. “I’m tired, please just believe me on that one.” WonWoo stops asking and the conversation after is stiff. JunHui hates himself for snapping. He hates himself for doing something like that. What the hell is wrong with him?

His cellphone vibrates and for a moment, he hopes and prays it’s MingHao responding. He likes it when he gets into petty arguments with the younger. He likes having that lightness in between them; like there’s nothing to worry about.

When he takes a quick peek, his heart sinks. The number isn’t the person he wanted to see. The message is dark; leaking with toxicity.  _ Come tonight. 8 pm sharp. Don’t be late.  _ He worries about ignoring that message; what happens if he does? Then what?

Swallowing, he hides the phone away, away from WonWoo’s sharp eyes. WonWoo doesn’t seem to notice; going on and on about some kind of new movie he’s watching. JunHui almost forgets what it’s like to have a movie night with his friend.

“We should watch it next time,” WonWoo says. “You’ll like it.”

“Maybe,” JunHui mutters. “When I’m not busy.”

“Okay,” WonWoo replies, looking at his watch. “I better get going. I’ll see you around?” He nods, staring back down at his notes. He listens for WonWoo’s heavy footsteps to fade before he pulls out his phone again.

Shakily, he messages Mr. Kim back.

_ Okay. See you then. _


	5. 4.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (very, very late) Halloween guys! This is just a filler chapter that may or may not add anything to the overall story. But, it's for the holiday and something to tie everyone over till we get the next chapter out. 
> 
> We hope you all had a safe holiday!

When Ji Ah walks into work, it looks as if a Halloween store threw up on the tiny office building. Gone were the cute little bear stickers that decorates the walls; in their place were bears in skeleton outfits. Along the wall, she sees the resident art therapist Cha Hakyeon hanging up streamers with Taekwoon helping him out. By the window, she sees Wonshik and Jaehwan sticking little gel pumpkins on. And in the middle of the room, she sees Hongbin and Sanghyuk cut out some paper bats. Finally, off in a little corner, she sees Ren playing with some balloons - letting them go and watching them fly through the air, while Baekho watches endearingly.

“What is going on?” Ji Ah asks, slowly, taking in all of the madness that’s happening around her. 

“We’re decorating,” Hakyeon replies, scowling down at Taekwoon. “Because  _ someone  _ didn’t remind me at all! So, we’re doing it now!” Taekwoon makes a noise of annoyance, yelping when Hakyeon slaps him on the shoulder. The two begin to bicker, like an old married couple. Ji Ah rolls her eyes at them, wandering over to the window. There she instantly turns away, seeing how unnaturally close and touchy they are with each other. The last thing she wants is to enter some strange love sandwich. 

“Don’t come here,” Hongbin says, the moment Ji Ah wanders over. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t want you here.” 

“Don’t say that to my cousin,” Sanghyuk mumbles, snipping carefully at the bats. “She’s at least going to help us.”

Hongbin snorts. “I doubt it.” But he silently hands Ji Ah a pair of scissors and a piece of black paper. She stares at the pristine white lines, and suddenly, she feels a wave of anxiety comes over her. She hands it back to Hongbin and scurries over to Ren, who lets another balloon go. It nearly smacks Ji Ah in the face and Ren gives her a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Sorry…” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean… I mean - I…”

“Just be more careful next time,” she says, gently. “That could have gone up my nose!” He blinks for a moment, before breaking out into tiny giggles. Ones that could materialize candy out of thin air and put puppies out of business. Ji Ah feels her entire soul drifting out of her mouth slowly and floating to the sky. 

“Ji Ah?” Ren asks, waving his hand at the empty shell known as Han Ji Ah. “Uhm…”

“Oh!” She shakes her head, snapping out of her head space and apologizes. She won’t ever admit how he’d manage to kill her and bring her back to life in a span of only a few seconds with his adorable laughter. The sheer power of Jung (Minki) Ren. “So, it looks like everyone is making decorations for Halloween coming up? What are you making?” she asks, looking around his little area in the corner of the office.

“What is he making, you ask?” An unfamiliar voice catches her attention a few feet away. She turns to see Baekho with three other guys, about Ren’s age, working on blowing up balloons with helium and crafting little pieces of white cloth to make floating ghosts on strings. “He’s making a mess!” The same voice comes from a guy with glasses. Said guy also happens to be struggling with tying the end of the balloon as his glasses proceed to slide down his nose with a scowl on his face. 

Immediately, she could feel Ren clinging to her side, as if he was startled from the guy’s scolding. “It’s okay, Ren is just having some fun, that’s all!” Someone comes to the rescue and quickly interject with a warm smile, elbowing the glasses’ side. A way of scolding him for even saying anything. It’s almost hard to believe how quick someone’s expression can switch in a split second, his scowling expression changing into a warm greeting towards Ji Ah.

“But he is making a mess,” the final guy, (who looks like a pokemon) named JR, agrees with a tired sigh. As if he had the displeasure of dealing with Ren’s shenanigans all day. And maybe he has. He doesn’t look like he’s having fun anymore and just wants to go home and sleep. But don’t we all?

Baekho, on the other hand, is sitting nearby. Too focused on his task at hand to even make a comment. His eyebrows furrow as he ties the knot on the balloon. His fingers working hard trying to tie the tiny balloon just right.

“Ren?” Ji Ah asks and turns to face him, she gives him a sweet smile.  She doesn’t want to scold him, simply because she doesn’t have the heart to. “Is there something else you want to do instead?” Instantly she realizes what her question implies. That this task is simply  _ too _ boring for him and that’s why he was messing around with the balloons. He quietly shook his head and lowered his head, nibbling on his lower lips.

“They won’t let me help,” he explains. “Dad said I should just ‘supervise’.”

“Why would he say that?” She frowned. Why were they excluding him from the crafting activities?

“It’s not like we don’t want his help!” The kind one from a moment ago pipes up, setting his supplies down. He stares at her, smiling still, as if ready to explain everything properly. “Ren tends to be… a little bit clumsy with stuff like that. So, it’s really for his own good that he doesn’t get hurt while handling sharp objects like scissors or hot objects the hot glue gun.”

She nods, beginning to understand why they’re excluding him. It’s for his own safety.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met, yet. I’m Minhyun, Ren’s friend from childhood.” He flashes her a warm smile. His sweet personality along with his comforting smile, has a smile plastered on Ji Ah’s face. He already seems easy to talk to; and from the way Ren behaves around him, she can tell Ren seems more at ease with him. “Don’t mind the other two,” he adds on and lets her know the one with glasses is Kwan Aron and the other handsome one is Kim Jonghyun or JR for short. “They’re just trying to get the decorations done in time. Mr. Cha kind of… stressed everyone out with his rushing. If only we had more hands…”

“Ji Ah?” Ren speaks up, catching her attention. “Do you think your friends can come and help?”

“I think so? Just let me send them a text.” She smiles sweetly at him again and pulls her phone out, messaging MingHao first. She explains what’s going on at the office and she asks if he’s with Mingyu. Luckily, he just so happened to be with Mingyu, WonWoo and JunHui.

_ Please, can you guys come and help out? Halloween is tomorrow, and everyone is stressing! _

A message comes in a few minutes later.  _ Fine, we’ll be there shortly. _

“Help is on the way,” she grins.

“Great!” Minhyun lets out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “For now, why don’t you and Ren just supervise? Can you do that?” He looks over at Ren, who nods with a cute smile on his lips. He links his arm with Ji Ah and points to the single deflated balloon in the corner from earlier.

“Let’s investigate,” he says, his tone serious and drags her over with him. Ji Ah simply plays along, finding it cute albeit a bit childish. But it’s Ren, there’s no questioning why he does the things he does. “It came from...Nu—East.” He points off into the distance.

“Nu…East?” she asks, tilting her head, looking confused. “I have a bad sense of direction, but I’ve never heard of Nu—East!”

“Now you have,” he grins. She chuckles softly, still confused. He picks up the balloon, fiddling with it between his fingers for a few seconds, like he’s trying to come up with something to say to her.  It’s like that time when they met after midterms. At least at that time Baekho was there to help him out. However, this time he’s occupied crafting ghosts a few feet away.

Ji Ah takes a moment to admire how he’s subtly changed since she started her internship at the office. She likes how Ren was warming up to her and others, he’s making some good progress. She decides to help Ren on his adventures; effectively wasting time till help arrives.

~***~

MingHao and the others arrive half an hour later, looking frazzled. MingHao quickly scans the area for his beloved (which is questionable at a time like this) troublemaker Ji Ah. The moment he heard that they were doing crafts, he knew he had to come and make sure Ji Ah wasn’t making messes or causing any trouble for the office.

The last time she did crafts related, she glued her hand to the table thinking it was funny. But the minute she couldn’t pull her hand off, she panicked. He much rather have Ji Ah not do anything than have something that embarrassing happen at her own workplace.

While scanning the area, he sees her cousin Sanghyuk working on something with Hongbin; and immediately tries to hide behind the giant squids. JunHui notices and quietly asks what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” MingHao whispers back and pushes Mingyu in Sanghyuk’s direction, sacrificing his friend to Han Ji Ah’s savage cousin. He takes JunHui’s hand and guides him over to Ji Ah and Ren. Where they’re sitting in the waiting area having a small chat with Jaehwan and Wonshik about pumpkins and the pumpkin spice latte craze every fall season.

MingHao simply doesn’t understand how Ren – the painfully shy – managed to land Jaehwan – the painful loud – as a therapist. He shrugs. Perhaps it’s simply a matter of destiny that drew two people together. It helps that both happen to be the right fit as well. A match made in heaven.

Ji Ah looks up, waving at the pair. “You guys made it!”

“I’m only here to make sure you don’t do something stupid,” MingHao says, staring at them. Ji Ah frowns, scowling.

“What do you mean?” She giggles the moment he gives her the dirtiest look ever. He shakes his head, sitting down, dragging JunHui with him. JunHui stumbles, flopping on the sofa as gracefully as he could. Wonshik waves at MingHao and his friend.

“I see you two are rather close,” he says, nodding towards their intertwined hands. JunHui nearly lets MingHao’s hand go, but MingHao grips it, pulling their hands down onto the sofa. “I’m glad to see you make friends.” MingHao nods, staring straight ahead and ignoring the sweat that’s dripping down his back.

In his mind, he makes the argument that he’s simply holding JunHui’s hand because he likes how soft the older’s hand feels. It’s a weak excuse but it’s better than nothing. Even if he isn’t so sure if the other even feels the same way. A reassuring squeeze calms MingHao’s mind as he reaches over and picks up one of the pieces of construction paper.

“So…” MingHao says, ignoring the looks he gets from, not only Wonshik, but the other three as well. He dips his head, his bangs covering his face, and hoping they don’t see the red blush on his cheeks. “What are we supposed to do?”

~***~

JunHui has never made Halloween decorations before. It’s a foreign concept to do. His fingers tremble as he carefully snips the black paper, under the watchful eyes of Sanghyuk – which he learned is Ji Ah’s cousin. Sanghyuk, to put it lightly, scares the living daylights out of JunHui. Maybe it’s from the sheer size of the older or maybe it’s the fact that he happens to be Ji Ah’s cousin. Either way, JunHui could feel himself shaking, dropping his scissors multiple times. 

His hands shake as he picks up the scissors again, trying hard to cut in a straight line. 

“Hey,” Sanghyuk says, causing JunHui to drop his scissors again. 

“Uh… Yes?” JunHui asks, placing the paper down. Sanghyuk holds out his hand, motioning the younger for a high five. JunHui gives him one, albeit a quick one. He pulls his hand away feeling something sticky on it. His mind instantly goes south, a horrified look crawling onto his face.  _ Oh god.  _

Above him, Sanghyuk is simply doubling over in laughter. He lifts his head, staring at JunHui’s horrified face. That, apparently, causes even  _ more  _ laughter in the older as he falls over onto the floor, dying. It takes him a long time to get his breathing right. JunHui merely stares, unsure of what to say. 

“Oh my god,” Sanghyuk says, wiping his eye with his clean hand. “That was great. Thanks for the laughs dude.” With that, he walks - correction, he prances - away, looking for another victim. JunHui sits there, not moving and jaw tense. He looks at his hand before slapping it onto the black paper. The paper sticks to his hand and JunHui lets out a small giggle, before breaking into loud gut ripping laughter. 

_ Glue, _ he thinks, placing his head down as waves of laughter rips through his body. He got pranked and for some reason, JunHui is okay with that. It’s the first time in a long time where he had a good laugh. Lifting his head, he sees MingHao staring at him. A tilt of his head and a soft smile on his face tells JunHui that things will come around. 

For once, he believes it. 

A short while later, Ji Ah comes over. “JunHui, give me a high-five!” She holds out her hand, to which JunHui slaps with his clean hand. Another horrified look crosses his face the moment he realizes what’s on his hand again. She squeals out a laughter, running off. 

The urge to slap himself in the face is overwhelming, but with both hands covered in glue, he doesn’t think that’s wise. So, in response, JunHui’s head falls into the pile of paper, groaning in defeat. He wonders how MingHao handles people like that. He actually wonders how the younger hasn’t combust into flames yet. 

JunHui decides to never come Halloween decorating with MingHao ever again. The only way for him to save  _ some  _ dignity for himself. 

~***~

Decorating for Halloween is normally a fun and healthy tradition that many people enjoy. Unless you happen to be Ji Ah, Ren and Sanghyuk. All three are in the corner, waiting for their hands to dry so they can peel it away from each other. Somehow, all three had glued their hands together and somehow are stuck like this till the glue dries. 

MingHao stares with Hakyeon standing by his side. 

“This is what happens when you let children get a hold of the supplies,” Hakyeon says, grabbing a pumpkin and walking away. MingHao lets out a noise of agreement, grabbing the carving tools and following the professor. 

He takes one last look at the three, snickering under his breath. “Idiots.”

~***~

The next day MingHao finds himself standing next to JunHui at the office. They’re having a small gathering for the holiday, a last-minute Halloween party thrown haphazardly together by the staff. It’s early evening and the office is closed so they can focus on celebrating. However, no one had any time to dress up in Halloween costumes, making it seem more like a casual party.

MingHao looks around, seeing Hakyeon is pouting in the corner, drinking his blood colour punch. In the middle of the office, he sees Jaehwan and Wonshik are making small talk with the other adults. MingHao and JunHui thought it’d be wise to step away. Give them another minute of pretending to be children. Speaking of children, MingHao looks around for his friend and her unusually large cousin.

Ren, Sanghyuk and Ji Ah were all trying to eat all the candy out of the candy bowl while hiding from Cactus Bean, aka Lee Hongbin – who’s trying to find out where those candies went. The whole scenario seems utterly ridiculous that MingHao couldn’t help but laugh. JunHui notices, asking him what’s so funny?

“Nothing.” He shakes his head with a small smile. “Just noticed one of your bat’s wings is peeling off from the cardboard base. It’s funny to think you didn’t have enough glue for it considering you got pranked by the two Han cousins.” He ends his comment with a snicker.

JunHui pouts, offended. “Oh yeah?” he says and looks to MingHao’s near perfect bat decorations. What could he say about it? JunHui tries to pick something, anything he could say about the younger’s decorations. But there’s nothing. He sighs, feeling defeated landing in his hands. “I’m not perfect,” he mutters, eyes hanging down. The feeling of shame and failure creeps into his soul, eating away at it like ants.

Dejection has always been heavy, hanging over the two of them like thunderclouds. Acting like a rein of terror that holds them down. And it’s silly to get upset over Halloween decorations too.

“I know,” MingHao softly says. “I’m not perfect either, and that’s okay.” He gives his friend a kind smile. One that JunHui didn’t expect, but appreciates. He appreciates the comfort from someone who had closed himself off.  “The eyes on mine are crooked,” he blurts out a moment later with a sad chuckle.

“They kind of are,” JunHui agrees. He receives a frown from MingHao, as if he just insulted his entire family and burned down their farm. “I-I mean!” he stutters, digging around in his brain for some kind of apology.

“I’m just teasing you,” MingHao surprises him with a cute laugh. “You’re so easy to fool.” JunHui deflates, admitting defeat.  

Just then, the children from the corner approach the pair, offering candy from the bowl (that they totally did not steal from Hongbin). MingHao snickers taking one.

“Don’t eat so much,” he warns Ji Ah. “You’ll get sick later.” She merely responds with a mischievous smile; dropping small box of candy in MingHao’s hand. JunHui stares at it, wondering what she was up to. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.

And JunHui is right, when MingHao suddenly shouts and drops the little candy box clutching his chest. A life-like spider falls out onto the floor causing the children to laugh.

“Who’s easy to fool now?” JunHui laughs at MingHao’s scowling face and elbowing his side.

“Here, you have one too, JunHui~!” Ren offers him a similar box. JunHui hesitates on accepting it, but seeing Ren’s puppy-like eyes, he caved and accepts the box. He eyes the box suspiciously, expecting a fake spider inside. Instead, when he opens it a fake mouse jumps out at him.

He shrieks, dropping the box, and hearing the children laugh some more. That is, until they begin screaming and fleeing. JunHui looks up, seeing Hongbin coming at them wearing a haunted ghoul mask. One that someone could get at a Halloween store that looks terrifyingly real.

Hongbin doesn’t only manage to spook the children, but he manages to spook MingHao when he shouts at them suddenly. This causes MingHao to scream and cling onto JunHui’s arm, hiding behind the older. JunHui feels his heart racing when Hongbin did that but not as badly as MingHao. He manages to give a soft laugh while Hongbin walks away. Despite getting tricked, JunHui feels like he still got a treat in the end. Because the feeling being closer to MingHao, who remains latched onto his arm longer than needed, is a better treat than any candy.


End file.
